Endurance
by FallenAngel2013
Summary: Past events have threatened to break Rick, turning him into a ruthless leader. But upon coming across Grace Bennett, a woman he arrested in the past, his view on things take a turn for the better when he discovers she's not only survived, but cleaned up her act. The world is going to hell, his marriage is broken, but there is still a chance for hope and humanity to endure. Rick/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **_**Set during season three. The time-frame between the events of the season have been altered and things have been added. The OC's name is Grace Bennett. Rick/OC  
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**Disclaimer: **_**I do not own **_**The Walking Dead**_**. I'm just playing in the sandbox.**_

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The world had fallen apart at the seams, becoming nothing more than a fractured shell of what it used to be. Those who managed to survive the epidemic of the undead had to adapt to a new way of living in which only the strongest survive.

Gracelyn "Grace" Bennett never imagined that she would be one of those people.

Before the world went to hell, she'd been nothing but a lowlife junky addicted to heroin who drank too much, struggling to provide for her young daughter – Ashley – whilst feeding her addiction. By the time she was twenty-seven she'd already been arrested half a dozen times for various reasons and had been visited by social services here and there concerning her care of her daughter. Her habits certainly didn't win her any mother of the year awards, but she tried to be the best mother she could be, given her problems. Never did she shoot up or drink when Ashley was home, nor did she drive her daughter around when she wasn't sober. That little girl was the only bright light she had in her otherwise dark world and never would she do anything to risk her safety.

That didn't satisfy social services, however, and one day last August she came close to losing custody of Ashley to her sister – Heather – for good after she was arrested for DUI, possession, and assault on an officer. It seemed as though she'd blown her life to hell. But then the undead started walking, their horrific plague spreading, and Grace managed to get out of jail along with the other inmates when the infection reached them because a sympathetic guard wanted them to at least have chance. If it weren't for him, she'd have died for sure.

The first thing Grace did was go to Heather's house to find out if she and her daughter were okay, but what she found caused her to spill the contents of her stomach then and there.

Heather was long dead, a gun in her hand, a hole in her head, and a bite on her forearm, and huddled against the rotting corpse of her sister was six-year-old Ashley, restlessly sleeping. The sight had brought tears to Grace's dark green eyes and she wasted no time in packing up some clothes, food, and water into a backpack, picking up the gun and ammo before getting her daughter out of the apartment, to Heather's car, and out of town as fast as possible. Things were already falling apart, and even while she was desperate for a shot of heroin and a drink of something strong she knew she had to get them out of there.

That was roughly a year ago, and Grace was now clean and sober with her now seven-year-old daughter by her side as they ransacked a home along the road with Simon, a boy they'd picked up with his mom a while back during winter with the group she'd been with.

Food and fuel were becoming increasingly harder to find with each passing day, and rain, streams, and bodies of water brought the only source of water provided there was a way to boil it, so she doubted there would be anything worth finding in the house. She was able to siphon a little bit of fuel out of the busted jeep in the back, though, which had been a pleasant surprise. But it was also worrisome. No one these days would dare leave a drop of gas behind if they could help it.

Stepping inside after filling up her blue truck with the scant amount of gas, she walked into the kitchen and found Ashley rummaging through the lower cabinets.

"Find anything, sweetie?" she asked, tucking a strand of shoulder-length dark blond hair behind her ear.

Wearing torn jeans and a faded and filthy pink shirt with a silver heart on the front, Ashley backed out of the cabinet she'd crawled into, holding in her thin arms a variety of items. "Did I do good?" she asked, setting her find down on the table.

Walking over, Grace examined the items and sighed sadly.

Ashley had found a half empty bottle of vegetable oil, some Taco Bell sauce packets, and a few cans of spam. The spam would give them something to eat, but the rest wouldn't do them much good in the long run. Then again, the handful of sauce packets would give some better flavor to the spam. Still, it wasn't much at all.

Seeing that Ashley was still waiting for an answer, chewing on her lower lip and watching her with big green eyes, Grace forced a smile and ran her fingers through her daughter's thick honey curls. "Yeah, Ash, you did good."

Smiling brightly, she picked up her backpack and stuffed her treasure inside.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs caught both of their attention, and Grace pulled her crowbar from her belt loop before going towards the staircase with her daughter right behind her, holding onto her little switchblade in one hand and the backpack in her other. They'd cleared the house of the undead, but with how many herds were wandering around out there it was quite possible that one had snuck up on them and gotten inside, or maybe they even missed one somewhere, so she gripped her crowbar tighter. What she wanted was her gun, but she hadn't had ammunition for their few firearms for over a week.

Upon reaching the stairs she saw that it was only Simon, the duffel bag in his hand looking a little less empty as he came back downstairs, and she sighed in relief.

"Found some aspirin on the floor in the bathroom along with a freak," he said, tossing her the duffel bag to inspect. "Also found a few razors and some clothes."

Frowning, she looked up at him from the bag. "That's it? Did you check each room?"

"Checked 'em twice," he replied regretfully. "Guess someone beat us to the punch."

"Not likely," she sighed, looking at one of the dead "freaks", as Simon and her old group took to calling them. "There were a few cans of spam in the kitchen, fuel in the jeep, and no one would leave aspirin lying around. Chances are someone was bit, a herd came through and scared them off, or maybe both."

He nodded, looking decidedly unhappy, adjusting his hat atop his head of short light brown hair. "Spam, huh? Great."

"Hey, I don't like it either, but we don't have much else, bud," Grace pointed out, setting down the bag and slipping her crowbar back through her belt.

Simon stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked around a bit before fidgeting and adjusting his filthy brown shirt,. All the while, he avoided her eyes.

Grace stared at him knowingly, hands on her hips. The only time the sixteen-year-old fidgeted like he was and didn't look at her was when he was nervous or wanted to talk about something that would make her angry.

"Got something you want to share, Simon?" she questioned.

"It's just…" Simon trailed off, searching for the right words. He then raised his dark brown eyes to hers and suggested, "Maybe we should think about hitting the prison."

"Not going to happen."

"But there's bound to be stuff there. It could be a goldmine!" he reasoned desperately.

"Yeah, and you want to know why it would be a goldmine? Because the place is overrun with freaks!" she snapped. "They obvious they can't get out, and we aren't going in."

"We're starving, Grace!" he snapped, voice raised with desperation. "Without our guns, we can't hunt, and a few cans of spam and whatever else we have in the truck isn't going to cut it. We don't get food, we're gonna die!"

Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, Ashley looked up at her with tears in her eyes, frightened and upset by Simon's outburst. "I don't wanna die, Mommy."

Tears stung her own eyes and she knelt down to hug her daughter. "We're not going to die, sweetie. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, I promise."

It was a promise she might not be able to keep for forever, but for now it rang true. As long as she was alive, she'd keep Ashley safe.

"And _you_," Grace started, rising to her feet and stepping close to the boy. "Watch what you say around her.

"Look, I'm sorry, but it's true," he insisted. "Taking that prison was what we planned to do! Food, shelter, safety… that's why we came here in the first place!"

"That was back when there were twelve of us," she reminded him quietly, and his eyes left hers.

It was true that they'd traveled for over two hours to reach the prison, a man in their group being familiar with the area. Upon inspection, it looked like it'd be possible to at least take the yard, and over the course of a few days they'd work their way inside. But then a herd came through in the middle of the night, biting and scratching everyone but Grace, Ashley, and Simon. The only reason they'd survived was because Grace made a snap decision – she had the keys to the truck, and Simon and Grace were closest to her, so she grabbed them and shoved them into the vehicle when it was obvious the others were lost to them. That was two weeks ago, and Simon hated when she brought it up, but only because he'd seen his mother get bit while they made their escape.

"Whatever," the teen mumbled, stomping out of the house to the truck in a huff.

Grace found that she had a new respect for her dead sister now that she was practically raising a teenager. Because her parents died in a car crash when she was ten, Grace had gone to live with Heather since she was the only family she had left. She'd given her sister hell once she became a teen, getting tattoos, drinking, doing drugs, and partying, but what pissed Heather off was when she would say "whatever" and storm out of the house. Up until lately, Grace hadn't understood her sister's issue with her saying "whatever". The way Simon said it like some PG version of "fuck you" or "go to hell" made her want to pull her hair out, so no wonder Heather got pissed when she said it.

Looking after Simon before raising her eyes to her mother, sniffling, Ashley asked, "Can we go home now?"

Home.

Grace hardly knew the meaning of that word after moving around every week or two just to survive, but Ashley had a habit of calling anywhere they stayed for over a week home. She wished she could give her little girl a home, a place where she could rest and play, but that seemed like nothing more than a pipe-dream now. Like it or not, the chances were that neither of them would ever have a real home again.

Not about to tell her own daughter that, she nodded, helping her slip on her backpack. "Yeah, we're going home."

"Home" was nothing more than an abandoned cabin down the road, tucked away in the woods. It wouldn't hold against the undead if they decided to come in which was why she'd gutted the ones she'd killed when cleaning it out, spreading their insides all around the cabin in hopes of masking their scent from the other monsters lurking in the woods. Seeing the gore would also make unwanted visitors think twice about coming inside.

Making sure they had all they'd found, Grace cautiously led Ashley out to the truck, keeping her eyes open for the undead and other survivors who may be intent on stealing her loot. Simon was already inside the truck and hardly glanced at them when they climbed in after tossing their stuff into the bed.

He was angry with her for bringing up the loss of the group and indirectly his mom, but he would get over it, especially with Ashley lifting his arm to cuddle into his side as Grace started the engine and drove onto the road. Whatever attitude he had getting into the truck dissipated the moment the little girl snuggled up against him, and he hooked his arm around her before giving one of her long curls a playful tug. She giggled and poked him, making him smile, and Grace knew he'd be just fine.

Simon had taken to being a big brother to Ashley and they both got alone amazingly well despite his outbursts, even when his outbursts were sometimes quite violent – he wasn't handling the loss of his mother well in the slightest. He and his mother were the only people in the whole group she'd trusted to watch Ashley if she wasn't going to be around for whatever reason. They'd been family, and in light of the death of his mother Grace swore that she would take care of Simon as if he were her own. Nothing was going to happen to the two kids if she had any say in the matter.

Before the epidemic spread, the only one she'd given a damn about was Grace, no one else, not even her big sister. But now she found that being clean and sober made her a more compassionate and friendly individual, and she cared about the boy very much. She'd also cared about everyone in the group and had cried and grieved while driving her and the two kids to safety, leaving them behind.

Her chest tightened at the mere memory of that night, recalling the screams and pleas for her to help them even as they were bitten, scratched, and hopelessly lost. With thirty plus undead in their camp that night, going back for them was a risk she couldn't take.

As she rounded a bend in the road, Grace spotted a few vehicles stopped up ahead with people walking around. _Living_ people. At first glance she saw only four, but then there were six, then nine, and when she spotted movement in an old truck she counted ten. It had been so long since she'd seen any sign of life that her jaw dropped a fraction.

"Mommy?" Ashley started, her voice raised in pitch with worry and curiosity.

"I see them," she murmured, keeping her eyes on the strangers.

Simon's hand moved to the empty shotgun they kept in the truck for show, long since having run out of ammo for it, and asked quietly as though they'd hear him, "Should we stop?"

She mulled over the idea in her head, and she admitted that it would be nice to talk to people over the age of twenty for a change, but she wasn't a fool. Very few could be trusted these days.

"No," she said after a moment, slowing so as not to accidentally hit anyone and steering to the side to drive past them on the dirt.

Simon didn't question her and she was grateful for that.

The group of strangers turned to look at her as she slowly drove by and she stared right back, watching for them to make a threatening move of any kind that would force her to speed off. They all looked terrible, filthy and tired, and some were painfully thin. But all were wary and armed, and that caution had likely been a key factor in keeping them alive. One man in particular wearing a tan jacket with shaggy dark brown hair and a scruffy beard was warier than the rest and shot her a cold look, his hand moving to rest on his gun as he turned to face her as she drove by.

The action made her pulse quicken and she tightened her grip on the wheel, fearing he'd shoot at the truck, but even as she passed him she found that she kept glancing back at him in the rear-view mirror not out of fear, but out of curiosity. Something about him looked incredibly familiar, and being that she was normally good with faces she knew that she had to have seen him somewhere before. But _where_ had she seen him? Most survivors left a notable impression on everyone and she could recall each and every face she'd come across while on the move and where she'd seen each person. Names were what she had trouble with, but not faces, and since she was having such a difficult time placing his face she figured that she probably met him at some point before the undead started walking.

Tearing her eyes away from the man, she shook her head. She couldn't count how many people she'd met before all of _this_, and most of them were met while she was high or drunk, thus impeding her ability to recall exactly where she'd seen him. Giving herself a headache over it would do her no good, but so help her it bothered her to no end.

"Mommy, look at his hat," exclaimed Ashley, twisting in her seat to look back at the boy in the group, staring longingly at his hat. "Can I have a hat like that, please? _Please_?"

Even with the apocalypse going on, the little girl was still just that – a little girl. When she saw something she wanted, she put on a pout and started begging and making promises. It was endearing to know that despite the struggle to survive, Ashley had still retained her childish innocence.

"Sure, if I can find one," she replied, glancing at the boy in the mirror. His hat looked to be one belonging to a police officer or something. It almost looked like the hat of the guy who arrested her before the whole mess started with the undead.

The cop that arrested her…

Grace slammed on the breaks suddenly, putting her arm out to keep her daughter in place against the seat while Simon braced his hands on the dash.

"What the hell, Grace?" Simon demanded, both shocked and confused. Typically, she gave them a few seconds warning.

Ignoring him, Grace turned in her seat to look at the guy who had scowled at her with his hand on his gun. He stared right back, flanked by the others in his group as he watched her, put on edge by her sudden stop. It was hard to tell from a distance, especially with the short scruffy beard, but that was definitely the officer who arrested her back in August.

She breathed out a laugh, astonished. "I'll be damned."

"What?" Simon asked, and then he frowned when she put the truck into reverse and steered back towards the group. "Whoa, whoa, what're you doing? I thought you said we shouldn't stop?"

Ashley ducked lower into her seat, hiding, frightened by her mother's sudden change in mood. "You said strangers are bad."

Strangers were bad, but she'd met the guy here and there in the past. He'd pulled her over and written her warnings on multiple occasions back in King County, trying his hardest to get her to turn her life around before finally arresting her. He told her while she sat screaming and kicking in his squad car that she was throwing her life away and finally agreed with his partner who called her a lost cause.

She held no grudge against him, not really. Had she not been arrested by him when she was she might have not been put in jail where she'd been safe from the undead during the first wave of the outbreak. Even so, this was her chance to show him just how wrong he was about her.

"This guy's not a stranger, not really," she assured her with a smirk playing on her lips as she came to a halt a few feet away from him and the others. "Neither of you say a word, got it?"

"But –" Simon started.

"Got it?"

Sighing, he nodded, holding onto Ashley's arm protectively.

"Mommy will be okay," Grace said soothingly to her daughter, kissing her cheek. Only when Ashley smiled slightly did she roll down her window.

No stranger to confrontation and people with a "shoot first" attitude, she kept her movements slow and cautious as she shifted to lean half out the window, unsurprised to find that she already had the officer's gun trained on her from where he stood a few feet away. He looked a lot colder and rougher than she remembered, certainly not appearing to be the compassionate yet stern officer anymore. Then again, who was the same person they were before the world went down the drain?

"We've got nothing for you," the officer said tightly, his steel blue gaze never wavering as he aimed his gun at her. "I suggest you keep moving."

She thought about that. "Nah, think I'm just fine right here."

She wanted to see how far she could push him. She'd never been nice to him during their brief encounters and when he arrested her she'd been a bitch with a big mouth and had scratched, slapped and kicked at him when he tried to restrain her, even bit his partner, but he still kept a cool head and understanding tone, trying to keep her calm and telling her that he didn't want to hurt her.

"Think you're misunderstanding what I'm saying. I wasn't askin' you to leave, I was tellin'." Cocking his pistol, he advised in warning, "You've got one minute to get moving."

Grace gaped, taken aback by his blunt threat to shoot if she didn't get her ass moving within the minute. She was half tempted to call his bluff, but judging my how he hardly even blinked, how his gun hand didn't so much as tremble, and the worried glances from the others, save for the boy and man with a crossbow, he would shoot her the moment her minute was up.

She hadn't liked him in the slightest back when she was so screwed up, but she couldn't deny that he'd been a good, kind, upstanding officer who had given her more chances than any other cop would have. The undead had a habit of changing people for the worst, but what in the hell could have made such a good police officer turn so damn cold?

Taking a small step forward, the man with the crossbow aimed it at her and said, "Man told ya to leave."

Ignoring the redneck, she commented, "First you tell me to quite struggling 'cause you don't want to hurt me, and now you're threatening to shoot me when I've done nothing but stop to say hi? You pulled a one-eighty, Officer Grimes."

Rick Grimes blinked, brow creasing in confusion.

Smiling slightly at how she'd put a dent in his focus, she asked knowingly, "Don't remember me, do you, Grimes?"

At this point, the woman who had been sitting in the truck hopped out, her hand resting on her belly, heavy with a baby. Grace recognized her as the woman in the photo from Rick's squad car, along with the boy. More than likely they were his family.

The pregnant woman looked at her for a long moment, and the woman then looked to Rick, then the crossbow guy, and to the others.

No one spoke, no one made a move, and no one stepped in front of Rick. He was in charge, that was as clear as day, and judging by how the crossbow guy was acting she figured that he was like his second in command or something.

"Who are you?" Rick demanded, jaw set.

"Well, your buddy Officer Walsh called me an insane psycho bitch after I bit him, but my name's Grace."

"Grace?" he repeated, chewing over the name for a few seconds whilst the others looked lost by how she knew both Rick and Shane. But then recognition flashed over Rick's features and he lowered his gun slightly, disbelief replacing his previously cold tone as he asked, "Gracelyn Bennett?"

She smiled. "The one and only. Bet you never expected to see me again, let alone all cleaned up." Taking in the withered, tired group, especially the exhausted pregnant woman, she made a snap decision and patted the door of her truck, no longer paying any notice to his gun still slightly aimed at her. "C'mon, I set up camp down in a cabin just up the road. Not much in the way of food, but there's plenty of water coming from the stream for washing or drinking, and there's more than enough room for you and your people to take a breather."

Rick's earlier wariness returned, but he didn't raise his gun fully again. "And why would we follow you?"

"Because you all look like shit," she said bluntly. Shrugging when he made no attempt to accept or decline her offer, she added, "Hey, follow or don't follow, just wanted to be helpful for old time's sake, Grimes. Feel free to follow if you and your people want to take a nap without the dead crawling in bed with you."

Having said her piece, Grace got back into the truck and put it in drive.

Simon stared at her, stunned as she started driving. "That's the guy you said arrested you?"

"Yep."

"Why offer him and his group a place to stay?" he questioned, legitimately confused. "You always say not to trust strangers, and they're strangers. Why bring 'em to the cabin?"

"Grimes isn't exactly a stranger," she pointed out.

"No, but he is the guy who arrested you!" he exclaimed. "Would'a thought you'd be happy to leave his ass back there."

Once upon a time, she would have been happy to do just that, but not anymore. Holding grudges did he no good.

Before she could reply, Ashley tugged on Grace's dirty dark green shirt, and looked up at her with worried eyes. "Is he mean, Mommy? He sounded mean."

"I don't know if he's mean, sweetie," she said honestly, hooking her arm around her and pulling her into her side so she could hold her. Movement in the rear-view mirror caught her attention and she was pleasantly surprised to find Rick and his group following her in their vehicles as she turned onto a dirt road, the crossbow guy on a motorcycle. "But we're about to find out."

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_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **_**I really can't promise that I'll update this quickly all the time.**_

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When Rick first met Grace, she'd been a downright nightmare if there ever was one. He'd had to write her tickets here and there and gave her more warnings than he probably should have, but rather than be grateful to him for not arresting her she'd blown her top each and every time, shouting profanity and insults at him like he'd run over her puppy. Shane thought he was nuts for trying to help her, but during one of her rants when he gave her a ticket she talked about her daughter, and that was his reason for at least trying to give her the opportunity to pull herself together – he didn't want to take a mother from her child.

But then he pulled her over one night and she'd been drunk out of her mind and high, leaving him no choice but to arrest her. That pushed her off the deep end and she'd lashed out violently, kicking and slapping and screaming as if she was having a tantrum. Shane managed to get a hold of her from behind but she reared up, kicking Rick in the chest. His bullet-proof vest absorbed her blow, but her kick was strong enough to knock the wind out of him. By the time they got the handcuffs on her, both men had been slapped, scratched, kicked, and Shane had been bitten on the hand. The trouble didn't end there, and she screamed and ranted and kicked at the seats the whole drive back to the station. That was when he figured that Shane was right about her – Grace was a lost cause and would sooner die than kick the habit.

Of all the people in the world, Grace was one of the ones least likely to survive the walkers, and yet here she was, leading them to her camp in the woods.

Upon first speaking to him, he had vaguely recognized her voice, but she looked completely different from how he remembered her. She used to be pale with her dark eyes glazed over from the alcohol or drugs or both and she'd had ugly track marks going up her left arm, some fresh and some old. While she wore a frayed long-sleeved dark green shirt that hid her arms, her skin was fair and her eyes were just as bright as her smile had been when she introduced herself. He'd been absolutely shocked to discover who she was and that she was alive, even more so to hear her speak kindly to him and joke as opposed to screaming in a drunken rage or as high as a kite. After learning that she was the same junky he'd arrested he would have expected her to take a shot at him, not offer him and the others a place to stay to gather their strength.

But just because she looked better than he remembered did not mean he was willing to believe her when she said she was clean. She'd been a violent, hateful woman who was as hooked as one could get on heroin and drank. Just because her drug of choice might not be readily available didn't mean that it was impossible to get high. Merle had found drugs and had been high on that rooftop, so it was entirely possible for anyone to find something to get high on. Being the hardcore addict that she had been, Rick was willing to bet that she was lying about being clean.

The apocalypse didn't bring out the best it people, it brought out the worst, chasing away morals and hope, and he sincerely doubted Grace would be the exception to that. After all, he'd changed and abandoned his moral code when he'd originally believed that nothing could shake who he was.

After a good few minutes of driving down a bumpy dirt road, they finally came upon the cabin, tucked away in the trees.

Each vehicle found a place to park behind Grace's truck, and Rick took a moment to check out their surroundings. At first glance there didn't appear to be any walkers, but that could change in the blink of an eye. For now, things looked quiet, and so he got out of the grey truck.

The others followed his lead and got out as well.

Carl came around the truck and asked quietly, glancing towards Grace as she got out of her old truck, "That's the lady you arrested before you got shot, right?"

Rick nodded. "Yeah, that's her."

The young boy nodded slowly, adjusting his gun holster. "Think we can trust her?"

"Not sure yet," Rick replied with a sigh, and he looked towards Grace.

A second after she stepped out, a little girl younger than Carl followed after her, making Rick start. She couldn't be older than seven or eight, and the girl could only be the daughter Grace had ranted about whenever he confronted her, though he didn't know what her girl's name was. Drugged up or not, somehow Grace had kept them both alive, along with the teenage boy who appeared from the other side of the truck, but they were far from in good shape.

All three looked too thin, like they hadn't had much to eat in weeks, and his heart went out to the thin little girl holding onto her mother's belt.

Hershel led Maggie, Beth, and Glen over to Grace, followed by Carol and Daryl, and Rick assumed they were heading over to introduce themselves, so he started towards them with Carl and T-Dog beside him. Just as he walked four steps, Lori stepped in front of him, her hand on her belly.

"Can we talk for a minute?" she asked, tapping her fingers anxiously against her belly.

Rick sighed, looking past her. Talking to his wife wasn't exactly something he preferred to do anymore, but for the sake of Carl he wasn't going to ignore her when she came up to him.

He looked to T-Dog, and his friend nodded, putting his hand on Carl's shoulder. "Come on, let's go meet the new guys."

The real reason for T-Dog leading him away was not lost on Carl and he sighed, looking at his parents with a withered expression fit for someone older before walking off ahead of T-Dog.

Once they were alone, Lori took a step closer, causing Rick to stiffen, and she said quietly, "Look, everyone trusts your judgment, but I don't think coming here was a good idea."

Rick ground his teeth, noticing that she said _everyone_ trusted his judgment as opposed to _we_.

"We need a place to wind down for the night," he explained coolly, avoiding eye contact. "Here we can sort out where we're going next without wasting gas."

"This is Grace Bennett we're talking about, Rick," Lori reminded him, inclining her head towards the woman in question. "Shane told me how much trouble she caused you even whenever you cut her some slack, and after the fight she put up before you were shot? How do you know she won't just bash your head in for arresting her?"

The mention of Shane made his blood boil, but she had a point whether he wanted to admit it or not. Grace could have lured him to the cabin to get the jump on him, but Rick's gut told him otherwise and he's survived by trusting his gut.

"I don't think she'll do that," he argued, glancing at Grace over Lori's shoulder.

"You killed a man the other day for getting too close to our food and because he threatened to bring his friends to raid us if we didn't give him at least a bite of something. You didn't think twice about killing him, but this woman who could more than likely have a serious grudge against you invites us to her camp and you take her up on her offer with little hesitation?"

Tired of arguing with her any more than he had to, feeling he wouldn't be able to make her understand, Rick made to move around her but she stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"This is insane and you're putting us all at risk by letting us take shelter with some stranger," she insisted desperately. "The baby's gonna come soon and I don't want to risk giving birth around some drug addict."

He stared at her, appalled that she would even think that he'd knowingly put her, the baby, and Carl at risk.

"You think I'd have brought you here if I thought she'd hurt you?" he demanded quietly.

"No… I don't know, I just…" she trailed off, raking her fingers through her dark hair as she shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"You just what?"

Throwing up her hands, she said, "I just want to know why you were so quick to bring us here after learnin' who she is."

He thought that over for a moment, debating on telling her that his reason for following Grace to the cabin was so that he could learn if she truly was clean, and if so, why she was clean. She'd been dead set on not giving up the drugs when he dealt with her to the point where it seemed impossible that she'd turn her life alone, especially during the walker apocalypse.

Rather than tell her that, he stared at the ground and asked before he wasted his breath, "You said everyone trusts my judgment?"

Frowning, confused by his question, she nodded. "Yeah, they do."

"What about you?" he asked, raising his weary blue eyes to her grey ones. "You trust my judgment?"

Lori opened her mouth to reply, torn, but after a few seconds she closed her mouth, unable to lie and unable to speak the truth.

That was answer enough, and Rick added bitingly, "Then what's it matter why I accepted her offer?"

He didn't give her a chance to reply, already stalking off towards Grace and the others who were talking to her.

Back before the world essentially ended, Rick and Lori were having serious marital problems. Lori complained that he didn't talk enough and was too absorbed with his work, and when Rick tried to talk to her and be reasonable she got pissed and they began arguing. He started spending more and more time at work until one day she accused him of not caring about her and Carl whatsoever. More than once she'd expressed that their problems came from marrying when they were barely out of high school, but that was just an excuse, and on occasion she brought up the possibility of divorce.

Finding her after waking from his coma gave him hope that they could fix their wounded marriage, but with each passing day that hope dwindled until it became obvious that their marriage was broken.

Ever since confessing that he'd killed Shane and knew that everyone was infected, Lori had been looking at him cross-eyed and not a truly kind word as husband and wife had been exchanged since that day. At first she didn't talk to him at all, then she snapped and challenged every single thing he said, and though she now was a bit nicer when speaking she only spoke to him in order to question his decisions. The few times she agreed with him she made it sound as if she were patronizing a child, and that infuriated him.

He'd tried at first to make peace with her even though there was tension amongst them all after he was adamant that the group was no longer a democracy and that either they followed him or they left, but after months of trying and getting nowhere he'd finally had enough. She was carrying a baby that may or may not be his and he would make sure she stayed safe, but he didn't want to be around her, let alone explain his actions to her when she obviously didn't trust him.

Spotting him out of the corner of her eye as he approached, Grace turned to face him, patting the scrawny boy beside her on his shoulder. "I was just introducing Simon here to your pals," she explained with a half-smile before reaching down and lifting the girl into her arms. "And this here is my daughter, Ashley. I think I mentioned her to you once or twice."

"You did," he confirmed, giving the little girl a smile. Ashley blushed and smiled back before burying her face in Grace's neck, causing Rick to truly smile for the first time in a long while at the child's innocent reaction. "Didn't know she was so young, though. How old is she?"

"She just turned seven about five weeks ago," she replied.

Stepping forward after looking over the exterior of the cabin, crossbow in hand, Daryl asked, "Mind tellin' us why you got walker guts strung around the place like lawn ornaments?"

Rick frowned and looked past Grace towards the cabin. Sure enough, there was the unmistakable entrails of at least half a dozen walkers along with arms, legs, hands, and other body parts. No wonder it smelled so foul outside.

Simon answered before Grace could. "It's camouflage. Kinda masks our scent from others freaks that walk by."

Recalling how he and Glenn had to cover themselves in walker gore while in Atlanta, Rick didn't ask Grace or Simon to go into more detail. Daryl too was satisfied with the explanation and eased his grip on his crossbow.

"Have any herds come by?" Hershel asked.

Grace shook her head. "No. The biggest group to have come through recently only had a head count of about six. That being said, there are a few herds me and my group were keeping track of prior to us taking shelter here."

"Group?" Rick repeated. "Never said you were a part of a group. Won't they be a little put off by us being here?"

A solemn look fell over her face and Simon looked at the ground.

Shaking her head, Grace said, "Don't see how they could be – they're all dead. One of those herds I mentioned got the jump on us about two weeks ago. We're all that's left.

Everyone wore a look of sympathy and understanding. They all knew what it was like to have a herd sweep through without warning and to lose people. It seemed to Rick that he was good at getting people killed no matter how uncontrollable the circumstances.

Uncomfortable with the conversation, Daryl cleared his throat and asked, "Know if there's any game 'round here? Had an owl earlier but it didn't exactly hit the spot."

"There's usually some deer down by the stream," said Simon pointing back behind the cabin. "Saw about three there earlier. I think they're livin' around here."

Daryl stared at the boy, dumbfounded. "Y'all got deer and you ain't shot 'em yet? Got some secret stash of food or somethin'?"

Simon looked to Grace in uncertainty, but when she sighed and gave him a nod, he admitted, "We ran out of ammo eleven days ago. Can't exactly get close enough to the deer to stab 'em."

The anger and frustration Daryl had expressed towards them not hunting the deer faded, and he looked at Rick. Both men were thinking the same thing – it was only a matter of time before the three died due to starvation or a walker attack. Without ammunition, they were helpless, melee objects only being so helpful.

"I'm 'a go see if I can bring us back a deer," Daryl said with a sigh, walking off to go hunt for dinner.

"Good luck," Grace called, staring after him for a moment before looking back at Rick. "Walkers, huh? That what you call them?"

Glenn shrugged and said, "That or geeks."

"Geeks?" She shook her head, smiling slightly. "Me and the group I was with took to calling them freaks, but I kinda like the sound of walkers." Setting Ashley down, she added as she walked to the truck to get her bags from it, "Might as well head inside, it'll be dark soon. Feel free to claim whatever free space you can find."

Everyone grabbed the necessary items from the vehicles and headed on in to get situated.

The cabin was dark with a musky odder to it made more unpleasant by the smell of rotting walker remains outside, but it was secure and the problem with the darkness was already being dealt with by Ashley. Hurrying around the cabin, she lit various candles with a lighter, chasing away the darkness.

"Oh, you don't have to sleep on the floor," said Grace, and Rick turned to find her talking to Lori who was getting ready to lay a blanket on the floor. "There's a bed in the back bedroom down the hall to your left."

Lori was mildly surprised but nodded, no doubt relieved that she wouldn't be sleeping on the hard floor. "Thank you."

"Hey, you need it more than I do," she explained, indicating to her belly. "How far along are you?"

Taking a step away from her, still wary, she replied shortly, "Pretty far."

Grace could take a hint and stepped back, a little put off by the hostility but leaving Lori to her business.

His wife still believed they were in the presence of a violent junky, and until he knew otherwise he couldn't say that she was entirely wrong in thinking that. The sooner he could find out for certain the sooner he could put that issue to rest.

Thus far, Grace most certainly wasn't acting like the junky he'd known her to be.

Grace and Ashley were busy helping Hershel, Maggie, Beth, and Carol bring things inside while Simon brought T-Dog and Glenn up to date on the walker situation in the immediate area. Whatever Grace was talking about had Hershel and the women smiling, save for Maggie who just looked uncomfortable around her. Carl, standing off to the side, also looked less than happy with being in the presence of strangers.

Despite their obvious grievances, Grace helped them set up and showed them where everything was in the cabin, openly ignoring Maggie and Lori, though she did try to be nice to Carl. As rude as ignoring them may be, Rick would rather her do that than start screaming like she used to.

Excusing herself, Grace retrieved Ashley's backpack while the little girl played with a beat up stuffed cat and went into the kitchen.

Rick looked around, and upon locating everyone – minus Daryl – he deduced that she was alone and saw his chance to have a private chat with her.

Walking through the doorway to the trashed kitchen, he closed the door behind him.

Startled, Grace spun around, hand on her crowbar, but breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was just him. "Christ, Grimes, you trying to give me a heart attack?" When he said nothin, only stared at her, she tensed. "You need something?"

"Show me your arms."

Grace blanched, crossing them over her chest in defiance. "I told you I was clean."

"And I'm supposed to take your word for it?" Stepping closer, he waited for her to unfold her arms, but when she didn't he became frustrated and his belief that she was lying grew until he finally lashed out and grabbed her left wrist.

"Hey!" she hissed, trying to yank her arm free from his vice-like grip, but he'd already pulled up her sleeve.

Rick stared at her arm, expecting to find fresh track marks, but that wasn't what he found at all. What he found was an intricate purple orchid tattoo on her wrist, and above that in the crook of her arm were the scars left behind from years of heroin injections. He grabbed her other arm to examine, to which she put up no fight, and he saw nothing at all. By the looks of it, she hadn't shot up in a very long time.

"Satisfied, Officer Grimes?" Grace inquired angrily, yanking her arm from his grasp once he loosened his grip, her face red with embarrassment.

"You weren't lying," he said more to himself, unable to believe that she really was clean.

She could be snorting something or inhaling some kind of chemical, but none of the signs were there. She wasn't wheezing, sneezing, wiping her nose repeatedly, there was no discoloration around her mouth and nose, nor was she acting high. There was no question about it – Grace was drug free.

"No shit," she snapped, pulling down her sleeves and hugging herself.

Frowning, he asked, "Why not just show me to begin with?"

She turned her back to him and emptied the contents of the backpack onto the counter. "Because I'd sooner show an asshole my breasts than my tracks," she bit out, busying herself with her task.

Rick sighed, stepping forward and bracing his hands on the counter beside the embarrassed blond, guilt tugging at him. "I'm sorry if I made you feel violated, but I had to be sure you were being honest with me."

"Well, now you know," she mumbled, reaching into the backpack to pull out sauce packets from Taco Bell that were at the bottom. She remained silent for a few seconds before sighing, tapping one of the packets against the counter. "Haven't used since last September. With any luck the tracks won't be permanent scars. It's just that I built up some serious scar tissue with shooting up since I was fifteen that it'll be a while before they disappear, if they ever do."

He stared at her. "You were dead set on not changin' your ways back then. Said you were happy with your life."

"I was high most of the time so of course I was happy with my life," she argued with a shrug. "It was when I was sober that I started feeling shitty. Had to get high again just to feel better."

"What changed?"

Grace fell silent and scratched at a nick in the counter. "After shit hit the fan, I high tailed it out of jail with the help of a guard and found my daughter. Was going through withdraw 'til I found myself in a house that had a bottle of jack and some kind of household cleaner. Never was one for huffing, but I was getting the shakes and sweats so bad that I was gonna use anything I could find just to get high again. And I did – got so high and drunk I couldn't see straight. As a result, I ignored Ashley screaming until the third time she called for me, and I stumbled downstairs to find her kicking and screaming while a walker gnawed on her boot. All I cared about was getting high, and it almost cost me my baby girl," she said quietly, taking a shaky breath. "Haven't used since that day."

Rick couldn't imagine what it felt like to find a child being chewed on by a walker, but he knew that if he ever went off and did something selfish that caused Carl to be bitten he'd never forgive himself. Little Ashley was lucky that her boot had protected her from the walker's teeth. Grace had made a mistake and almost paid for it with her daughter's life. At least she didn't let her problem continue and got herself cleaned up. If she was going to keep herself and Ashley alive, she couldn't be high, and she must have realized that on that day.

"Nothin' like seeing your kid being attacked to scare you straight," he commented, picking up a can of spam.

"Got that right."

Setting down the can, Rick surveyed the food in the kitchen. There were a few cans of spam, Taco Bell sauce packets, a little bit of vegetable oil, a half-eaten bag of dried fruit, some jerky, and a jar of peanuts that was almost gone, and that didn't include the scant amount of food his group had in a bag that Lori held onto. It was hardly enough food for one person, let alone three.

Catching his look, she explained, "We've cleaned out most of the houses and shops in the immediate area, but there wasn't much to begin with. We make do with what we've got."

"Why not leave and find somewhere else to hunker down?" he asked.

"Not enough fuel in the truck to get far enough away that it would matter." Taking a sip of her bottle of water that had been resting on the counter, she added, "I've been thinking about just packing everything up and driving until the gas runs out, see how far we do get. Might get lucky and find a place better stocked than any of the houses around here. But I can't risk Ashley and Simon like that."

"Yeah, that wouldn't be wise," he agreed, accepting the water when she offered it to him, taking a drink.

She was easier to get along with now that she was clean and sober, even downright pleasant. It was a welcome change of pace, talking to someone who didn't judge his decisions left and right and hold a grudge like Lori, who didn't look at him with dwindling hope like the others.

There was a knock on the kitchen door and a second later Simon walked inside with Ashley.

Looking to Rick, he said, "Your friends wanna talk to you. Think they'd like it to be a private party."

Grace muttered dryly, "Guess I'll play hostess and get some food together for everyone,"

Rick turned to her, expecting an argument or outburst about not being able to be included in the conversation that was about to take place, but she only shrugged with a half smile.

Relaxing, he mulled over the topic of food before he came to a conclusion and said, "We'll provide food for dinner."

"I was only joking about playing hostess. You don't have to –"

"You took us in," he interrupted. "It's the least we can do. Daryl should be back later with somethin' to eat, in which case we can all share that."

"Thank you," she said sincerely, smiling gratefully. "You don't know how much we appreciate that, Grimes."

"Rick," he corrected. "And it's no trouble."

Giving her back the water, he moved past the kids to go see what the others wanted. Either they were looking to talk about what they were going to do after leaving the cabin, what the deal with Grace was, or all of the above. He had his money on each topic.

Everyone was gathered in the living room, Lori and Carol sitting on the beat up couch, Hershel in a chair, Beth and Carl sat on the floor, and Glenn, Maggie, and T-Dog were standing. They looked considerably more relaxed with a roof over the heads with little worry that they'd have to leave within minutes, but there was a thick tension in the room that prevented them all from being overly comfortable.

Seeing as no one else was going to say anything, Hershel spoke up first, "Lori tells me that Grace is a drug addict."

Rick's eyes snapped to his wife and she purposefully avoided looking him in the eye. Biting back the anger he felt that she'd yapped about Grace's past issues, he replied, "She used to be. Gave me a lot of trouble back when I was a cop."

"She's not one now?" Glenn asked, curious.

He shook his head. "No, she's clean."

"How can you know that?" Maggie questioned, not so ready to believe that all was well with Grace.

"I checked her arms. There're no fresh track marks, no signs of recent injections, no discoloration on her mouth and nose, nothing. And she's not actin' like she's usin'," he explained.

Leaning back against the wall, T-Dog said, "Met my fair share of addicts growing up. Can't say she acts like one of them."

"She gave us a place to stay," Beth added, picking at the fabric of her shirt. "She can't be that bad. I like her."

Carol glanced at Lori, giving her an apologetic look, then said, "Grace seems like a decent woman, and she doesn't act like someone who abuses drugs, though I only have Merle to compare her to."

"I'm not saying she doesn't seem nice," Lori argued. "But Shane told me that she was as mean as anything and was always high or drunk. She showed no signs of stopping, so why would she stop just because the world ended? There are other ways to get high, or maybe she's injecting herself somewhere else."

Fixing her with hard blue eyes, Rick said tightly, "Shane said a lot of things, most of which were lies or exaggerations."

She snapped her mouth shut, her argument dying on her lips.

The mention of Shane silenced everyone in the room, knowing how touchy a subject the man was for Rick. He'd had to kill his best friend who'd slept with his wife, making it impossible to know who's baby it was that she carried, and they'd all given Rick the cold shoulder for a while after his death. Time aided them in realizing that he'd done what he had to do, though Lori still held a grudge, but it didn't change the fact that they looked at him differently because of that day. Now the mere mention of Shane brought silence and tension no matter the situation.

Needing to put to rest their fears of Grace to some degree, he said, "Whenever I confronted her to either give her a warning or a ticket, she was hateful, spewing insults and foul language. If I so much as suggested she go to rehab she'd start screaming and yelling that it was none of my business and would continue ranting even as I drove off, and when I finally had to arrest her she was violent and fought me and Shane tooth and nail, biting, scratching, kicking, everything. That is _not _the woman in the kitchen right now."

"Well, then what changed?" Lori asked, staring ahead at the wall.

Rick thought about telling them that her daughter was almost killed by a walker while Grace was getting high, but that would just add more fuel to the fire. "You'd have to ask her that. It's not my place to say."

"Can we trust her?" Carl asked from the floor, repeating his earlier question.

After a moment, Rick nodded. "I think so."

His answer didn't readily satisfy his son, who sighed and shook his head, but he at least didn't question him.

"If there's anyone in this place we should worry about its Simon," said T-Dog, keeping his voice down to prevent keep from being heard by those in the kitchen. "Boy was actin' all macho when telling us about the area while you and Grace were in the kitchen. Glenn questioned him and the kid nearly bit his head off, face turned red and everything, even made a move for his knife before the little girl came over to see what was going on."

When Rick looked at young Asian, Glenn said, "All I asked was if he knew of any place we could go to find medical supplies and food. He got in my face and said this was his turf and we were just guests."

Technically they were just guests, but only in the cabin. Anything outside was free game. Still, it was concerning that the boy was openly hostile about it.

"I'll ask Grace about him later," he assured them.

Maggie sighed, "So we're stayin' the night?" When he nodded, she got up and mumbled something about going outside to get some fresh air that didn't smell like walker, and Glenn followed after her.

"Is there a problem?" Rick asked Hershel.

"It's only been the ten of us for so long. She's not so open to the notion of being around strangers anymore, especially after the incident with Randal," Hershel explained, watching his daughter wonder outside with Glenn.

"It's not like we're moving in," Lori pointed out, shifting to get more comfortable on the lumpy couch. "A day or so and we'll be on our way."

About that, Lori was right.

A herd was only a few days behind them and they couldn't count on the rickety cabin for protection. The gutted walkers outside would disguise their smell, but if just one caught scent of them or heard them its palls would come running and they'd be surrounded. They couldn't risk another incident like the farm. No, in a few days they'd continue on south before the herd caught up with them or one of the surrounding herds could box them in.

But what to do about Grace, Ashley, and Simon?

Without guns and fuel they were as good as dead, and if a herd came tearing through they wouldn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of surviving, but he couldn't leave them any guns, already low on ammunition, and what previsions they had they couldn't spare. The logical thing to do would be to offer to let the three join the group, but he wasn't sure that was the best idea given their dwindling resources. They hardly had enough of everything for themselves, adding three more would be as good as sentencing them all to a slow death unless they found a fully stocked hospital and Daryl found a deer everywhere they went. Not to mention, Lori, Carl, and Maggie weren't sure about Grace and the others were concerned about Simon's attitude. They were under enough stress as it was and being stuck in a vehicle together wouldn't help.

Still, Rick couldn't just leave the three of them behind to die. Were they anyone else he would and he'd have a clear conscience doing so, but he'd seen how terrible Grace had been before the walkers, saw how her life was going nowhere fast, and yet she'd cleaned up her act during the apocalypse and turned her life around, becoming someone helpful and pleasant.

The walker plague was tearing Rick apart, but it had put Grace back together. That alone left him to believe that she deserved at least a chance to live. He just needed to figure out how he'd help her have that chance.

* * *

_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **_**I really didn't intend on this chapter being so long, but I can't say that I'm complaining. Better to have long chapters than short ones.**_

_******Also, **__**I don't want to rush into things with Rick and Grace, but at the same time I don't want their relationship to grow from friends to a couple at a snail's pace, so I'm kinda just going with the flow more or less if that makes sense. Feel free to offer your input about how fast is too fast and how slow is too slow. Opinions give me things to think about while writing.  
**_

* * *

"Oh, my God," Grace started around a mouthful of cooked deer. "You guys have no idea how good it is to eat meat for a change."

About an hour ago, Daryl returned with a deer that had been wondering around the stream, and after gutting, skinning, and cooking it outside for a good while he brought it in for them all to pick at.

They'd gathered in the living room to eat, each claiming their own little spot. Lori and Carol were on the couch, Hershel was in the cushioned chair, Beth, Carl, and Ashley sat in chairs from the kitchen, Glenn and Maggie sat on a coffee table near Hershel, while Rick, T-Dog, and Daryl sat on the floor. Grace and Simon were also on the floor with Ashley in her chair beside them, but they sat a little ways from the others, not wanting to impose on the tight knit group.

Rick might have said that sharing their meal was the least they could do given that she gave them a place to stay for the night, but not everyone was thrilled with her being around them. Well, Lori, Maggie, and Carl didn't appear thrilled, and Daryl was more or less indifferent. Maggie wasn't rude or openly hostile, and Carl just seemed a little uneasy, but Lori kept glancing at her like she was going to come over and steal her baby or something. Grace understood why she might be wary of strangers, but she would have thought that because her husband showed some trust in her that she would follow his lead. Then again, if his bag and pillow in the corner of the living room as opposed to in the bedroom with his wife's things was any indicator, their marriage wasn't in the best shape. In fact, she hadn't noticed him and Lori speak to each other, save for their brief conversation she'd seen them having when they arrived, and even then neither appeared happy or comfortable speaking to each other.

Something was obviously wrong with their relationship.

"This is actually our first real meal in a while," said Carol, eating a little slower than Grace was. "Dinner's mostly consisted of squirrels, small birds, and whatever else we can scavenge."

"That's still more than we've had," she replied, taking a drink of water. "If it's not canned or bagged we can't eat it. Not having any ammo kinda puts limits on the menu."

Carol nodded in agreement before looking at Ashley, sadness falling over her features. "You've done a good job keeping your daughter fed, though... You're lucky to have her with you."

"That I am," agreed Grace, reaching up to run her fingers through Ashley's curly honey hair while she ate.

The look of sorrow the older woman tried to hide did not go unnoticed by Grace, nor did Daryl's sudden change in demeanor as he cast his eyes to the floor. In fact, everyone suddenly looked upset to some degree, and Rick looked more than a little guilty.

Something traumatic had obviously happened, and seeing how their reaction was centered around Ashley, it probably involved a little girl. But as curious as she was, Grace didn't press for answers, not sure if she even wanted to know.

"So," Grace started, wanting to get away from the obviously sensitive topic. "Where're you guys headin'?"

Shifting, grateful for the subject change, Rick replied, "South. Somewhere we don't have to worry about the coming winter and can settle down for a while."

"You're kidding, right?" Simon questioned, staring at him like he'd said some joke that wasn't funny.

"What's wrong with going south?" Hershel asked.

Grace sighed and replied, "Lotta people had the same idea the past winter, it seemed – head south to get away from the winter temperatures. Unfortunately, the walkers followed their food all the way south. Trust me, it's safer staying put and risking the cold."

"That's easy for you to say," Lori mumbled, poking at her food.

Setting her plate down in front of her, Grace stared at her and retorted, "It is easy for me to say because me and that group I mentioned were heading south at one point when we were forced back up north by herd after herd of walkers. We never got past Jacksonville, the walkers were so thick, and we lost a lot of people along the way – went from thirty-one people to twelve in a matter of weeks. Picked up Simon and his mom while we were scrambling back into Georgia." Turning her eyes to Rick, she insisted, "I'm telling you, heading south is suicide. You're all better off stickin' to the rural areas as much and hunkering down for the winter."

She might as well have shot him then and there, he looked so defeated. Was heading south really their only plan? By how he pinched the bridge of his nose, how panicked Lori looked, how what little hope the others had faded from their faces, she guessed that there hadn't been a plan B.

In truth, she was surprised they hadn't said they were heading to the prison. A woman as pregnant as Lori needed somewhere a little more permanent if she was going to give birth and care for a baby, and they certainly had the numbers needed to stand a chance at getting into the prison. It would give them stability and more than likely plenty of food, maybe even medicine.

Apparently, her daughter was thinking on the same wavelength and she said as though the solution was obvious and they were all idiots, "Just go to prison."

That got Carl's attention and he popped his head up. "Say what?"

"The prison," she repeated in childish frustration.

Rick stared at her, utterly confused, and then asked Grace, "What prison?"

All eyes were on her and she shifted uncomfortably, not liking being at the center of attention. "There's a prison past the railroad tracks not far from here. Honestly, that's where I thought you guys were heading when I asked, given how secure it could be after a little house cleaning."

"How secure?" Rick asked, setting down his meal.

"It's overrun with walkers – prisoners – but all the fences looked intact, last I saw. There are even guard towers," she explained. Wiping her fingers on her jeans, she asked anyone in the room, "Somebody got a map?"

Maggie nodded, the possibility of a place to take refuge brightening her otherwise foul mood. She wandered over to Glenn's bag and dug out the map, coming over to spread it out in front of Grace. Rick, Maggie, Glenn, T-Dog, and Daryl gathered around her and the map whilst the others sort of inclined their heads in their direction, watching and listening rather than getting up.

Holding a candle over the map, she tapped on the prison's location. "Here it is. It's about a half-hour drive from here."

"That's right in the path of the herd comin' in from the west," Maggie observed worriedly, indicating to an area circled in red. "There's gotta be almost two hundred walkers in that herd alone. Think the prison will hold against that?"

Grace shrugged. "Don't see why it wouldn't. You have to get through two fences to get to the yard."

Rick nodded slowly, staring at the map. "How many walkers you think are in the yard?"

"I can't say for sure," she admitted. "The entrance is sealed, but the gate linking the yard to the prison courtyard is open, letting them come and go from each area as they please." Dragging her blunt nail over the location of the prison on the map, she sighed. "Back when my group was still around, there was a guy – Ben – who knew the area and told us about it. That's what drew us this way. Our camp was about an hour or two away, but he, myself, and a few others scouted out up here to see if it'd be worth the trouble. Jacob, our group leader, would'a gone but he was dealing with a little... dispute between kids at the time," she explained, glancing briefly at Simon. "But like I said, our camp got hit by a herd about a day later and now it's just us. One adult and two kids can't clear out something the big."

"Yeah, we can," Simon mumbled bitterly, throwing away a deer bone with a bit too much force towards a wall. "You're just afraid."

Digging her nails into her palm, she asked him warningly, "Do you really want to do this now, Simon?"

"Now or later, what the hell's it matter, Grace?" he snapped angrily, making Ashley jump and everyone else stare at them. "Not like we can get in there now that you went and told 'em about it. Givin' away our shit..."

"The prison isn't ours, Simon –"

"The hell it's not!" he shouted angrily, temper boiling over, and Grace saw Rick's hand move to his Python out of the corner of her eye in response to the volatile situation. "It's on our land!"

"You shouldn't use that tone with her, son," scolded Hershel, eying the boy.

"Why not? She's not my mother!" he spat. "Good thing too 'cause she's gonna get her fuckin' kid killed!"

"You'd better thank God I'm not your mother," Grace snapped loudly, rising to her feet to tower over him, growing all the more pissed when her daughter started crying. "Because if you were my son I'd spank your sorry ass like the three-year-old brat you're acting like. Now, get your ass in the kitchen! I'll be in there in a minute."

He stared at her angrily, the only sounds coming from Ashley as she cried. Rising to his feet, he snatched some more meat from the deer along with a candle and stomped into the kitchen.

Grace sighed, sifting her fingers into her hair before pulling the plate from Ashley, setting it down, and wrapping her in a tight hug. It figured that Simon would choose now to give her an attitude. She kissed the top of Ashley's head, trying to ignore everyone in the room. Most were looking away awkwardly while a few stared at her or the kitchen door, taken aback by the teen's outburst. To say she was embarrassed and angry about the little scene Simon just made was an understatement and she could feel her cheeks burning. She didn't want to leave Ashley alone while she was so upset, but she needed to set Simon straight as soon as possible after seeing Rick rest his hand on his gun.

Carl watched them for several seconds in silence, picking the meat from the bone on his plate. A beat passed before he sighed and said, "Hey, Ashley."

Sniffling, the little girl looked at him with a pink nose and puffy red eyes.

Carl took off his hat and stood, crossing the room to hold it out to her. "I saw you starin' at it earlier. You can wear it for a while if you'd like."

The little girl's mood brightened considerably and she took that hat. "Thank you," she said in a small voice while Carl went back to sit down next to Beth.

Lori smiled at her son, but it was when Rick gave him a small but proud smile that Carl's lips quirked up slightly. Whatever was going on between Rick and Lori, their son was caught in the middle and had more than likely already picked a side.

That was something Grace never had to deal with since her daughter's daddy hit the road the moment she said she was pregnant. Good riddance, as far as she was concerned. The man was another junky who preferred meth to anything else in life. The girl didn't need two junkies raising her, and she liked to think that even with her past issues she did a good job raising Grace on her own with the occasional help of her sister being the babysitter.

The hat damn near swallowed Ashley's little head, covering her eyes, and the sight brought a smile to everyone's face, including Rick's. Leave it to something as simple as a hat not fitting to alleviate the tension in the room at least a little bit.

Grinning from ear to ear, trying not to laugh at how silly Ashley looked, Beth scooted her chair over, leaving a decent gap between her and Carl. "Why don't you bring over your chair and come sit at the big kids' table so your mommy can go talk to Simon?"

Ashley looked at Grace for permission, and the moment her mother nodded she picked up her plate and water bottle, set them on the chair, and pushed the chair over to sit between the two older kids, happy to be included.

Mouthing a "thank you" to Beth and Carl, Grace excused herself and went to deal with Simon in the kitchen, finding him sitting on the counter as he ate.

"What the hell is your problem, Simon?" Grace demanded after shutting the door behind her and crossing her arms over her chest.

He shrugged, stuffing some food into his mouth.

"Oh, no, you're not getting off that easy," she snapped, stepping forward and snatching his plate from him so he wouldn't have an excuse not to talk, putting it aside on the counter. "What was that in there?"

The teen glared at the floor angrily and asked, "Why'd you tell 'em about the prison? You could'a just told 'em Ashley was talkin' crazy things."

"Just because we can't get into the prison doesn't mean they shouldn't have the option," Grace argued. "Rick's got a son and a wife with a baby on the way – he needs a safe place for them."

"And what's up with that guy anyways?" he questioned, perplexed. "He's the prick who arrested you! Shouldn't you wanna… I don't know, stab him or somethin'? Instead you've let him and his people set up here like it's goddamn a bed 'n breakfast!"

She stared at him, not about to explain the depths of her reasons to him when he wouldn't understand in the slightest. "My reasons for letting him stay here are my own, Simon. But I will tell you this – as much as I hated getting put in jail, had I not been arrested when I was I might not be alive 'cause my house was right in the middle of a hotspot in King County. The jail wasn't."

Hopping off the counter, he walked over and asked pleadingly, "Why'd you let them stay here? Groups _always _lead to people dying."

"We're not in their group, Simon."

"No, but we're in the mix tonight," he argued worriedly. "Mom and I were on our own for months 'til we found you and the others, and three weeks later she and everyone else died. We're better on our own!"

So that was what he was pissed about about.

Grace supposed she couldn't really be surprised. Since the death of his mother he'd been put off by the mere idea of being near other people and openly spoke his opinion about how he thought groups were basically walker calling cards, how they put lives at risk, and other things. If she so much has joked and called themselves a miniature group he got mad and went into a temper tantrum like he had in the living room a moment ago. If he had it his way, he'd kick Rick and the others out into the night immediately.

"I disagree," she replied, working to keep her tone as calm as possible. Then she added with a sad sigh, "But that doesn't matter. Soon, they'll be on their way and it'll be just us again."

"Good," he said with a nod, relaxing just a bit. "So long as they don't raid our houses and stores, it's all good, I guess."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

Taking back his food, he explained with a shrug, "That Asian dude –"

"Glenn."

"Whatever." He took a bite and then continued, "He asked about where they could find some supplies and shit. I set him straight – told him it was our turf and not to mess with our stuff."

"Damn it, Simon," Grace groaned, leaning forward against the counter on her elbows, resting her head in her hands. "Whatever we find in those places is ours, but if they find something first it's theirs."

"But this is our place!"

"This cabin is, yes, but we don't own every damn neighborhood and store in the area!" she snapped, straightening.

"But –"

"No," she interrupted sharply, holding up her index finger in warning. "We've had this argument over and over, and I'm too damn tired to have it again. Later on, I want you to apologize to Glenn for what you said, and to Ashley – you made her cry."

Upon hearing that he'd upset Ashley, Simon had the courtesy to at least look ashamed. "I'll go make sure she's okay."

Grace grabbed his arm before he could step out of the kitchen, and said, "Ash's fine right now, Carl and Beth are looking out for her. You can apologize later."

He stared at her and then chuckled darkly. "What, you gonna have 'em take my place? They her new brother and sister?"

"No, but after you made an ass out of yourself, Carl was letting her wear his hat and Beth let her come sit with them," she hissed. "You might hate being around strangers, but she doesn't once I've assured her they're okay. Despite your attitude, she's having a good time. If you care about her like I know you do, you'll finish eating in here and won't come out 'til everyone else is done – you'll let her have some friends for once."

Simon ground his teeth together, face going red, but he yanked his arm away and went back to the counter. Hoisting himself up, he set his plate on his lap and stabbed at his food angrily, openly ignoring Grace now that it was clear she disagreed with him.

Sighing, running her fingers through her tangled hair, she left him alone and went back to join the others.

T-Dog was the first to look up when she came back in, and he asked, "We going to have a problem with him?"

Grace shrugged. "Most y'all will have to deal with is his mouth." As she sat back down in her spot, she said to Glenn, ashamed for Simon's behavior, "And I'm sorry for the attitude he gave you earlier. In the morning I'll give you a few locations where you can find supplies if you ever feel the need to go on a run."

"Thanks," said Glenn, lips turning up slightly.

"Any particular reason for Simon's hostility?" Rick questioned, setting his empty plate to the side and looking over at her.

Grace wondered if she should tell him, but there really was no question that she should, especially after Simon's open hostility, she just wouldn't go into serious detail on the depth of the boy's issues. "His mom was one of the people in the group and he saw her get bit when the herd hit us. They hadn't been with us for more than three weeks, and prior to that it was just the two of them for God knows how long. He's got it in his head that groups bring nothing but death, so he's pretty against you guys being anywhere near us," she explained quietly, glancing back at the door. "Honestly, his fuse has been short since that day, which is understandable seeing as he's struggling with the loss of his mother." Looking at Rick, she added while smirking, "Still, you better watch yourself if he doesn't get his way – I do believe he could give me a run for my money in the 'ranting and raving' department."

Her comment had the desired effect and Rick had to fight not to smile but failed, shaking his head. "That there is somethin' I don't want to see."

Lori, decidedly uncomfortable with the lighthearted exchange between Rick and Grace, set down her plate and rose from the couch. She glanced at Rick then looked away, and said to Carol, "I'm going to bed."

Grace watched her walk away, and upon hearing the door shut she looked to Rick, noticing that his smile had vanished. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," he sighed wearily. "No, it's nothin' you said."

Well, she certainly did something to get Lori's panties in a bunch, Grace noted silently.

Having already eaten her fill, she opted not to stuff herself anymore even though she knew that Rick would be taking the leftover meat with them when they left. At least she, Ashley, and Simon would all have full stomachs for a while.

Grace took a look at everyone before deciding that she needed some air, and she stood, retrieving her black jacket from a hook on the wall along with her crowbar and flashlight. "I've got some rope with cans attached outside that I need to set up. Saves me from having to stay up all night long," she explained even as she stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

It was sad to say, but she'd grown used to the smell of dead walkers. Sleeping so close to the stench could do that to someone. Still, she didn't want to take a deep breath.

Just as she walked down the steps, the door opened and closed behind her, and she turned to find Rick coming over to her, slipping on his tan jacket.

"Thought you could use a hand," he offered. "Or company."

She didn't need any help tying some ropes with cans to trees around the cabin, the job being so easy that even Ashley could do it without trouble, but company was an entirely different story.

"Won't find me complaining," she replied, leading him towards one of the trees past the vehicles. Kicking away some leaves, she revealed one bundle of rope and cans. "I've got a few more bunches hidden around the cabin. I have Simon take them down whenever we go out. Don't need people thinkin' the place is safe and moving in while we're gone, but hopefully the guts do a good job of chasing away the living."

Unwinding the rope, careful not to rattle the cans too much, Rick said, "You know, too many walkers run into this and the sound will just draw in more."

"Yeah, but it's either the cans or me and Simon losing valuable sleep. At least this way one of us doesn't have to be awake at all times. We're such light sleepers anymore that the wind making the cans clank together wakes us both up anyways," she explained with a shrug, tying one end of the rope around the tree. "This is normally Simon's job, but I seriously doubt he's going to come out and take care of it any time soon tonight."

Rick followed her with the rope until they reached its end, at which point he knotted it around the closest tree where a few feet away was another rope with cans. He helped her straighten out the next rope and tied it as well before continuing on with the task.

"How bad does he really get?" he asked, throwing her a sideways glance.

Grace didn't want to speak ill of Simon, especially after Rick's reaction towards his firearm, and sighed, "What's it matter, Rick?"

"Considering that he put his hand on his weapon when Glenn questioned him, I think I should know just how big a threat he might pose to us."

Grace stared at him, shocked to hear that Simon actually made a move for his knife, but not so shocked at the same time. At least now Rick's action made more sense. Sighing, she shook her head, and then said, "I'll tell you what – a question for a question. I'll answer yours if you answer mine, deal?"

He thought about that and nodded. "Fair enough. So, how bad?"

"Pretty bad… and getting worse," she confessed. "I mean, he had a bad attitude back when his mother was alive would snap on a dime, but after she died he's gotten worse. Like I said, it's understandable, it's just… worrisome. Sometimes he only grumbles and walks off or gives me the silent treatment, other times he acts like a brat with a temper tantrum to varying degrees, but there are times where he'll just see red and start throwing things, screaming, and punching walls 'til his hands bleed. Typically, Ashley can get him to stop just by giving him a hug or spilling a few tears, but when he starts acting the way he did during dinner and starts swearing like that I separate them because that can sometimes lead to throwing and wall punching. I can't risk Ashley when he gets like that."

"You think he'd hurt her?"

"Not intentionally, no. He loves her like a sister. But when he gets mad he gets pissed and when he's pissed he doesn't always think with a clear head. Ashley doesn't need to hear him accuse me of killing us or that we're going to die or whatever, and I sure as hell don't want him throwing shit around her and punching," she explained, tying off the rope and looking for the next bundle. "I called him out on upsetting her in the kitchen and he was going to come out to apologize, but I told him to wait until later."

"Wouldn't it help for him to apologize to her as soon as possible?" Rick asked, finding the rope first and handing it to her. "She was pretty upset."

"Any other time, it would be best, but if he saw Carl and Beth keeping her company he'd go on a tirade about them taking his place or something. That was one fight none of us needed to deal with." Sighing, she ceased walking and leaned back against a tree. "If Simon were an adult I'd have cut him loose a few days after the group died with all the trouble he's given me, but he's a kid and I care about him as if he were my own. He's worth the trouble."

"Even so, you'd best keep an eye on him," Rick warned, casting the beam of his own flashlight into the dark forest, his voice distant. "It's just a bad attitude right now, but if you're not careful, if you don't pay close attention, he could take a turn for the worst. You don't want that."

Grace watched him closely, head cocked to the side a bit as she studied him. Everything about him – his posture, his tone, how he wasn't looking at her, what he said – told her that he wasn't just talking about Simon's behavior.

"What happened to you, Rick?" she asked gently. "I don't remember you being this… well, being like _this_. Even when I was yelling at you all those times before you arrested me you were stern, sure, but you were also calm and nice about it all, but on the road you threatened to shoot me when I didn't do anything and grabbed me in the kitchen like I was a rag-doll. What's the deal?"

Rick breathed a heavy sigh, setting the rope on the ground and putting his hands on his hips as he walked a few steps away from her, keeping his back to her. His discomfort was palpable and Grace remained silent, picking at her fingernails while she waited for him to reply. She figured it wouldn't be a happy topic, but she hadn't expected him to be so uncomfortable explaining it all, let alone take over a minute to gather his thoughts.

After what felt like an hour, he finally said, "I got shot the day after I arrested you and fell into a coma – didn't wake up until a good month after all this started. In that time, Lori and my partner Shane were having an affair. After I found her she broke it off with him, so even though it was pretty obvious they'd been together I played dumb and kept my mouth shut. We were already having problems before the walkers, I didn't want to make it worse. That being said, the baby has as much chance of being his as it does being mine."

"Shit, I'm sorry," Grace said sincerely.

First the walkers and then finding out his wife was having an affair with his best friend? What a thing to wake up to.

"Thing is, Shane never let it go that I was back with Lori. He changed, became cold and hardened, ruthless even," he continued tightly, staring off into nothing. "Carl was shot by a hunter by accident, and he needed medicine and equipment that Hershel didn't have on his farm, so Shane and the guy who shot him – Otis – went on a run. Something happened and Shane shot him so that the walkers would focus on him while he made a run for it with the stuff Carl needed."

She gaped. "He used the guy as bait?"

Rick nodded.

"God, I know your kid needed the stuff, but _seriously_?"

"I'd have done the same thing in that situation, but I'd have killed him, spared him the pain of being eaten alive. Shane only shot him in the leg. After that, he thought he could protect Carl and Lori better than I could," Rick added grimly. "He and I were constantly at odds, especially once he started believin' the baby was his, and he'd just become downright dangerous. Lori even came to me and said that Shane thought she, Carl, and the baby were his and he'd kill whoever threatened them, and in his twisted mind I was a threat. Hershel didn't want him on his farm anymore after an incident with some walkers in his barn, but I convinced him to let Shane stay even though I knew he was unstable."

"I'm guessing having him stay wasn't the best idea," she assumed, opting not to ask what the barn incident was all about yet.

He shook his head. "After the problem with the barn, Hershel went in town to get drunk in an abandoned bar, so Glenn and I went to drag him back. We ran into some trouble with other survivors and brought one of them back with us when he was left behind after falling from a roof and impaling his leg on a spiked fence – a boy named Randall. It was stupid, given how he and his friends had shot at us, but he was just a kid and would'a been eaten by walkers if we hadn't helped. We fixed him up and drove him far from the farm where Shane and I planned on sendin' him on his way, but it turned out that he went to school with Maggie and knew where the farm was. If he found his buddies he'd lead them right to us, and we didn't need a fight on our hands, but I didn't want to just kill him without thinkin' about it. Shane thought differently and tried to shoot him. I stopped him but he and I got into a fight – damn near killed each other before walkers snapped us out of it. A couple –" he fell silent when a branch snapped somewhere in the woods.

Both holding their weapons – Grace her crowbar, and Rick his Python handgun – they shined their lights in the direction of the sound, expecting to find a walker. To their relief, it was just a raccoon looking for a meal.

"A couple days after bringing Randall back to the farm, Shane snapped and everything went to hell," Rick continued, returning his gun to his holster. Walking side by side, they worked on setting up the rest of the rope, getting the task over with. "He took the kid out into the woods and killed him, made it seem like Randall escaped with his gun, giving some bullshit excuse that the kid knocked him in the face with a rock – came back and his face was all bloody. It was all a trick to get me alone and I knew it, but I kept goin', kept givin' him chances to stop, but even when he didn't I just kept walkin' farther from the farm. Reached a field and he finally came to a stop and put a gun to me, said he was a better father for Carl and the baby, and a better man for Lori. Said I was destroyin' everythin'. It was either him or me, so I made him think I was handin' over my gun and I stabbed him. I didn't have a choice."

Grace stared at him with wide eyes, shocked that his relationship with his best friend – his partner in the sheriff's department – could have fallen so far. Shane had been a smart-ass who didn't want Rick to waste his time being the good guy around her, but the two men had appeared to be close, almost brotherly, and yet the guy slept with Rick's own wife and had the nerve to try to stake a claim on Lori and Carl? She could understand his desire to want the baby seeing as neither men could know for sure who the father was, but to go so far as to try to murder Rick?

The man had become a psycho!

Rick dragged his fingers through his short, wavy dark hair with a heavy sigh, and said, "Lori hasn't looked at me the same way since. She won't say it, but she thinks what I did was just as bad as murder 'cause like I said, I knew what he was doing and could'a brought the death march to a halt, but I didn't. I just want it to be over with him. And after I told her Carl had to put him down after Shane turned? That pretty much ended things for us on the spot." Bitterly, he added, "Tried to fix things at first, but it was pointless. Nothin' kind was said between us for the longest time, and now all she does is challenge my decisions with a little less bite and patronize me like I'm a child. She doesn't trust me, and I can't say that I give a damn anymore. The others trust me more now after coming to terms with it all, but I know they question what I'm doin' to some degree, 'cept for Daryl. Hell, _I _question what I'm doin'." Resting his hand on the butt of his gun out of habit, he shook his head, quiet for a while as he became lost in his thoughts. But then he looked at her for a few seconds with an unreadable expression, and said quietly, "Been a long time since I've had any hope that things can get better."

For a moment, Grace said nothing, only worked on tying one end of the rope to one tree and the other end to another. There was one more rope to go that was shorter than the rest and she kicked away the leaves, picking it up, but she made no move to start tying as she contemplated over what Rick had just revealed to her.

No wonder he was so different. What he'd gone through wasn't something anyone should have to deal with, ever, and certainly not a good, honest man like him.

"Look," she started slowly, turning to face him. "I wasn't there, but it seems to me that all you did was defend yourself. Shane had it coming and you gave him every chance to stop. He signed his death certificate long before you stabbed him, Rick. And honestly, killing him the way you did at least showed you that you don't have to be bitten or scratched to turn."

"You know about that?"

She nodded."Old guy in my group had a heart-attack. Few minutes later he tried to bite his son's daughter." Tapping her foot a bit and wringing the end of the rope in her hands, she asked, "As for Lori... you want my opinion?"

He threw his hand up wearily. "Sure."

"Okay, then," she started slowly, taking a step towards him and she thought about how to phrase it. Then she decided being blunt couldn't hurt. "I'm sure she can be a nice lady, but as far as I'm concerned she's being a bitch and a shitty wife, and she can go to hell. I mean, I've never married, but husbands and wives are supposed to support each other and be there for each other. Instead she screwed your best friend, warned you about him being dangerous, only to get pissed that you killed him after he lured you into the woods to murder you? God, no wonder y'all aren't sleeping in the same room."

Rick stared at her.

"What? You said I could give you my opinion!"

"No, it's not that," he assured her with a small but genuine smile. "Just not use to people takin' my side about Lori. Everyone, with the exception of Daryl, is always defendin' her actions and attitude. It's a nice change of pace, havin' someone aside from Daryl on my side for a change."

She smiled back. "I'm not saying that some of her attitude isn't based off the hormones, but you can only blame so much of it on the pregnancy. And while I might not have been too fond of you back when I was using, you were never the murdering type, so I doubt you are now. Nah, I'm willing to bet you're still a good guy, Rick Grimes."

His smile faded and he shook his head. "I stopped being the good guy a long time ago. I'd do anything for Carl, the baby, Lori, and this group. If that means killing the living then so be it."

"Doesn't make you a bad guy," she argued softly. "It makes you a father, husband, friend, and leader."

"Husband," he repeated dryly. "Fairly certain we'd be getting a divorce if we could."

"Good luck finding a lawyer. I hear they're all dead, and apparently walkers charge an arm and a leg."

That made him chuckle slightly and he shook his head. "Have to admit, I never thought you and I would ever be havin' a conversation where you weren't screamin' and yellin'."

"Oh, come on, I wasn't that bad," she argued in her defense, earning her a disbelieving stare from the cop beside her.

"I gave you a warning for public intoxication and offered to give you a lift home, and you called me a motherfucking cocksucker loud enough for people in the cafe to hear before screamin' at me where to shove my gun."

Her cheeks flamed red and she scratched the back of her neck, breathing out an embarrassed laugh. "Yeah, uh, not my best moment."

"No, it wasn't, but that was how you were every time I was around you," he said, watching as she started tying the rope around the tree. "Got used to it."

Keeping her eyes on her work, she replied, "You didn't act like other cops and that bugged the hell out of me. You kept pushing me to go to rehab and get clean when I insisted that I loved who I was and didn't need to change. Any other cop would have arrested me on the multiple occasions you gave me tickets, and would have given me tickets when you gave me warnings. I think what pissed me off most was that you didn't just leave me alone or whatever – you were a good guy and I wasn't used to that, and thus didn't like it. So, when I read in the paper while seething in jail that you'd been shot and were in a coma, I have to admit that I damn near did a little happy dance."

"Happy to make your stay in jail a little brighter," he commented dryly.

"Hey, you were constantly riding my ass about going to rehab. Felt like the monkey finally got off my back for good," she explained as she finished up with the rope at last. "But after thinking about it all once I was clean, it occurred to me that you were probably the only person on the whole damn planet who at least tried to help me. As far as my own sister was concerned, I could rot in prison or OD, but you constantly tried to get me to go to rehab and were always cutting me some slack so I could go home to Ashley. Guess that's why I invited you and your guys here for the night – my way of apologizing for being a loud mouth junky bitch to you."

"Apology accepted," Rick assured her, bringing a relieved, bright smile to the woman's face. He looked her up and down, shining his flashlight on her just enough so that he could see her better without blinding her. And then his hard features softened immensely, and he complimented in a kind tone, "You look good, Grace."

She blushed and self-consciously brushed her fingers through her blond hair, grimacing as they caught on tangles. "I look like shit – I'm too skinny and am in desperate need of a real shower and shampoo."

"We all could use a shower, and you're right, you are too thin," he agreed, causing her to frown a bit. "But that's not what I'm talkin' about... Not once before all this did I ever see you smile."

She blinked.

He thought she looked good because she _smiled_, even though she wasn't at a healthy weight and was in need of a shower? She didn't know what to make of that, but she found herself smiling and blushing harder.

Needing to change the topic, she asked, "So, uh, now that that's out of the way, where do you plan to go come morning?"

"We're gonna check out that prison you mentioned," he replied, tone turning serious. "If it looks as secure as you say it is, we're gonna go for it."

Grace nodded slowly, happy that they were at least going to try but sad that they'd be leaving. Rick was a good guy, and now that she was talking to him she found that she wanted to continue getting to know him. liking him. It sucked that their time would be cut short by him and his group leaving, though Simon would throw a party the moment they left. Perhaps she could pop over to the prison here and there to say hello.

"That's good, that's really good. With any luck it should be plenty stocked." Laughing slightly to mask her discomfort, she added as she started back towards the front of the cabin, "If you manage to get inside, I'd appreciate it if you'd toss some food over the fence if you find any."

Grace," he started, grabbing her arm gently and turning her to face him. "I said _we _were gonna go for it. All of us."

"But I thought… Rick, your people hardly know me. Simon's already caused problems with your group and Lori clearly isn't comfortable around me. I might not like her after what all you told me, but I don't want to stress out of pregnant woman," she reasoned while her heart screamed at her to thank him and accept rather than argue. "And I'm not leaving Simon behind. I saw you reaching for your gun when he went off, and I can't promise he won't act out like that again."

"We'll deal with Simon's attitude as we go, and Lori will get over you being around," he insisted, sounding almost desperate. "With as much space as a prison can offer, you, Simon, and Ashley can get to know everyone without being in their face all the time."

"Rick –"

"I need you to come with us, Grace," Rick interrupted quickly.

Hesitating, she asked, "Why? What's it matter if I go or don't?"

He didn't answer right away, seemingly searching for the right words that would explain everything clearly. "I thought you were lyin' when you said you were clean, and even after seein' your arms it crossed my mind that you could just be using somethin' else. But none of the signs were there. We've both changed because of life or death circumstances, but you've changed for the better." When she opened her mouth to speak, he put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her, and continued firmly, "We need you in the group to remind us… to remind _me_ that things can get better. Lori's already told them what Shane told her about you –"

"Great," she mumbled.

"But seeing you clean now might boost their moral, make 'em believe that there's still a chance at a life," he explained. "And after draggin' yourself outta that hole you were in, you at least deserve a chance, and you'll survive longer with us in the prison than you will out here."

Speechless, Grace could only stare at him as his words rolled around in her head, coming into conflict with other thoughts while imploring her to just agree to tag along. Simon sure as hell wouldn't want to go and would no doubt go into a rage or give her the silent treatment, and Rick's group didn't know her well enough to trust her. To survive, a group needed to trust each other, or at least know each other. Her entry into the group might cause too big of a disruption, and Simon would definitely cause a disruption here and there, but Ashley… Ashley needed to be around people, other kids, and like it or not Grace couldn't protect her by herself for forever, not when Simon was so temperamental as of late. The little girl needed stability, and living in the prison could quite possibly offer her that.

Rick gave her shoulders a light squeeze, and she dragged her dark green eyes up to his.

Hadn't she wanted more time to get to know him? Hadn't she been disappointed to know that he'd be leaving until he invited her and the kids to join his group? It was obvious he didn't mind talking to her – he wouldn't have told her as much as he had if he did mind – and maybe he liked her too as a possible friend, so why was she trying to talk herself out of going? Rick was a good man, something familiar from before the world went to hell, and she needed that – it was hard to come across a genuinely good man in these dark times. He had his fair share of issues, but who didn't? Either way, he still had a good heart.

"Okay."

Rick, a little surprised, repeated, "Okay?"

"Yeah. Your people might not be used to having me around and Lori might not like it when you tell her, and Simon definitely won't like it, but I have to think about what's best for Ashley. Constantly on the run from walkers with just me and Simon for company is no way for a little girl to grow up. And unlike Simon, I'm inclined to believe there's safety in numbers. Besides... unlike before, I don't mind being around you," she replied, blushing faintly. She then smirked, noting the remnants of his surprise, and added, "I could always start screaming and calling you names that would have everyone in that cabin blushin' if you'd prefer that to me agreeing to come along."

"I'd rather you didn't start doin' that," he said with a slight chuckle. Removing one hand from her shoulder, he trailed his other hand down her left arm where his thumb pressed gently into the crook of her elbow where the healing scars lay hidden beneath the fabric of her shirt and jacket, watching her face closely for her reaction.

The action made her throat tighten and she bit her lip lightly, scolding herself when she felt her cheeks heat up. Such a simple touch to anyone else, but it meant something to her. She was repulsed by the evidence of her years of drug use, but the way he was gently moving his thumb over the scars beneath the clothing made her feel a little less repulsed, like maybe she could one day walk around in a short-sleeved shirt again.

Reaching for his hand on her elbow, she gave the back of his hand a squeeze before holding it, hoping to convey just how touched she was by the action, and said softly, "Thanks, Rick… for letting me have this chance."

"Don't mention it," he replied, turning his hand enough to hold hers, engulfing her small hand in his. And then, as if only just realizing he was standing fairly close to her while holding her hand, he let go and took a step back, clearing his throat. "Is that the last of it?" he asked, indicating to the rope.

"Oh, um, yeah," she replied, blushing harder than before.

The last thing she needed to do was start getting cozy with a married man. Just because he was having serious problems with Lori did not change the fact that he was _married_. She wasn't opening that can of worms without him making the first move.

_Unless he made the first move_?

Why was she even thinking about this?

She knew Rick to some degree only because he used to write her tickets, give her warnings, and arrested her – not the makings of a wonderful friendship, let alone anything else! Granted she'd learned a lot more about him since he and his pals came to the cabin, and with the change in her stemmed from being clean she could see them becoming friends, but still. The last thing she needed was to get some warm happy feelings from a married man she hardly knew after being reunited with him for less than a day.

Thankful for the darkness hiding her red cheeks, she said anxiously, "We should, uh, you know, get back inside before they send out a search party."

Rick merely nodded and led the way back to the front of the cabin in silence, to which Grace was thankful. She had a lot to think about, a lot to discuss with Simon, and all the while she needed to rest up for tomorrow.

If Rick liked what he saw, tomorrow they would take the prison, and she needed all the sleep she could get so that she was ready to pitch in. She'd prove to Rick's people that she could be trusted as a valued member of the group. As for Simon, well, only time would tell if he could push aside his grievances.

* * *

_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_

_**And Simon isn't just some teen with random anger issues – there's a bigger reason for his unstable, nasty temper that will come into play in a later chapter, affect Rick and Grace's growing relationship.**_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **_**The reason this took a little longer to be posted is because my AC busted, leaving my house around 85 degrees during the day and not much better at night. It's just been too unbearable to write for long periods of time, no matter how much iced coffee I drink. It'll probably take just as long for the next chapter because the AC doesn't get fixed until Monday.  
**_

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Lori had not been thrilled with Rick for inviting Grace and the kids into the group. Upon returning from setting up the rope and cans, Grace took Ashley and Simon to the kitchen while Rick had Carol go get Lori. Everyone looked rather surprised that he'd offered her and the kids a place in the group, but most were all right with it, save for Lori.

She'd made her case about thinking it was risky and foolish to include people they hardly knew, especially a junky and a boy with anger issues. About the boy, everyone could agree, all being concerned about his bad temper, but Rick made it clear that it was his decision and that it had been made. But as if proving he was unstable, Simon stormed out of the kitchen, red faced and nearly running into Carl, and crawled into his sleeping back across the room, his back to them all. Grace had come out a second later with Ashley, giving Rick a shrug. The little girl was at least happy to be coming along.

The rest of the night was tense and few got any real sleep, and sad to say the tension had not left by the time everyone woke up in the morning, only dissipated a bit.

"Sure about that kid?" Daryl asked, carrying the wrapped up deer carcass to the grey truck, not about to leave it behind while there was still meat on it.

Rick sighed, glancing back at Simon inside Grace's truck.

The boy had packed up his belongings and put them in the truck, but apart from that he refused to pitch in, opting to sulk inside the truck while Grace and Ashley picked up the slack. It wasn't the best start to the day, and Rick would be lying if he said it wasn't concerning, especially after what Grace told him last night about his unstable temper.

"No," Rick admitted after a minute, tossing his bed-roll into the truck while Daryl tossed the carcass into the bed.

Scratching the side of his jaw, Daryl asked, "Why bring 'im? Kid obviously ain't keen on comin'."

Making sure Grace wasn't within earshot, finding her giving a small bag of something to Maggie, Rick replied, "Grace considers him family. Made it clear she and her daughter wouldn't come without him. She won't leave him behind."

"Now he's our problem."

It wasn't so much that Daryl was questioning him, only voicing his issues with the decision. That was something Rick appreciated from his friend. He didn't question his decisions left and right, but he didn't pretend to agree if he didn't. However, even if Daryl did disagree with Rick, he continued to follow his lead, trusting him. That was more than Rick could expect from everyone else.

If everyone else trusted Rick to the same degree, it came as news to him.

"We'll watch him," Rick replied. "He tries anythin', we'll deal with it."

"Have t'a get past Grace first," his friend pointed out, leaning against the truck and looking past him.

Rick followed his line of sight and found Grace standing at her truck, dragging Simon out before shoving a bag into his arms. He mumbled something that Rick couldn't hear, and Grace smiled fractionally before giving the boy a kiss on his cheek.

Watching the two walk back inside, Rick sighed. "For now, we'll keep an eye on him. But if he starts actin' up I'll talk to Grace, let her know that if he's gonna stay he's gotta follow the rules."

Daryl nodded slowly, then said, "I'll watch him 'n let you know what he does."

Rick patted his friend's shoulder as Daryl walked off to tie his things onto his motorcycle, leaving Rick to his thoughts.

For Grace's sake, he hoped Simon didn't cause too much trouble. Bringing him along wasn't something he was all that thrilled about doing, but he couldn't ask Grace to leave the boy behind to fend for himself, not after she said that she loved him like he was her own son. That wouldn't have convinced her to come. But if Simon put the rest of the group at risk, Rick was going to take action. He'd give the boy a few chances, depending on whatever he did, but he'd make it clear to Grace that if Simon threatened the group in some way he'd have to go. That wasn't a conversation he wanted to have with Grace, not after establishing what he considered to be friendship with her.

Getting back to work retrieving whatever could be of use from around the cabin, opting to gather up the rope and cans, his thoughts wandered back to his conversation with Grace last night.

It truly was refreshing talk to someone who didn't think he was in the wrong about what happened to Shane and didn't defend Lori. As good as it was that Daryl was on his side about what all had happened along with Carl to some degree, having Grace side with him meant a great deal more to him. She didn't need to side with him as adamantly as she had, and she was well within her rights to disagree with him because of the "trouble" he'd caused her in the past, but she did side with him, even admitted to thinking he was still a good guy despite what he'd done and what he would do to protect his family and the group. She'd even joked about him getting a lawyer for a divorce and apologized for her attitude as a junky.

If he'd had any lingering doubts about her being a changed woman, they were erased last night. Their conversation had been the most pleasant one he'd had in a long time, perhaps even since waking up from his coma. That was something he hadn't expected, but he found himself glad that he'd taken her offer and went to her cabin with his people. She wasn't broken like he was, nor was she as hardened by the new and dangerous world that had been forced upon them all, and yet she was surviving in a way that worked for her whilst keep her little girl alive.

What he told her was true – she could be the moral boost he and the others needed, the reminder that life could get better. And when she agreed to come with him, he'd been more relieved and happy than he'd been in a long while. But then he went and changed the mood entirely, turning things in a direction he hadn't intended.

When he'd moved his hand down to her elbow, he'd meant for the action to be comforting, as if to reassuring her that everything was in the past. The scars were something that repulsed and embarrassed her, and were something she wanted to keep hidden even if it meant wearing long sleeves in the summer heat. He'd hoped that his touch might get it through to her that he wasn't disgusted by what he'd seen, but just in case he'd watched her face closely for her reaction to his act.

The reaction hadn't quite been what he'd expected – not from her and not from himself.

It was hard to read her face in the darkness, even with the scant moonlight shining through the trees and their flashlights aimed towards the ground, but what he did see was enough to tell him that she wasn't going to reach out and slap him, and then there was that slight tremble in her soft voice when she thanked him for the chance he was giving her and her daughter. And then he held her hand and she held his as they stood only a foot at most apart, and he felt something he hadn't felt since he started dating Lori, only this was more potent and singular, and it startled him into releasing her hand and stepping back.

That kind of feeling was not one he ever expected to be evoked by anyone other than his wife, let alone to a degree higher than he felt from his wife. But his relationship with Lori was as over as it could be without it being official, so perhaps it was only natural that he would find himself drawn to another woman, he just never would have imagined that woman being Gracelyn Bennett. Had someone told him before all of this that he'd be attracted to Grace, he'd have accused them of being drunk. But things were different now, _she _was different, a strong, pleasant, friendly woman whom he thoroughly liked talking to.

Even so, acting on the feeling wasn't right, not while he and Lori were still technically together, but investigating was another story. And besides that, he'd only experienced a feeling that made him realize he was attracted to Grace, nothing more. All he would do is act in a way that felt right around her while leading and protecting the group just so he could see if that feeling was random in response to being in the proximity of a woman who agreed with him about Shane and Lori, or if it was something genuine, and if it was if Grace reciprocated the feelings at all. If it was genuine and she did share the feelings that were bothering him so much, well… he'd cross that bridge when he got to it. No use stressing himself over something that might all be in his head, especially when he could never tell if he was pissed, indifferent, or happy as of late – this new way of living could play havoc with feelings, making one believe they were feeling something that they didn't. He wanted to be sure of things before he made a fool out of himself.

"Hey, Rick," called T-Dog as he walked up behind him on the way back to the truck, haling his bag with him. "Don't think you gotta worry about Maggie not likin' Grace anymore."

Confused, Rick looked around and when he spotted Maggie, he was a bit surprised by what he saw.

She was walking with Grace and both women were smiling brightly. In fact, Maggie's smile was happier than he'd seen in a long time. Glenn walked over to them and asked them something, and both women started snickering while Maggie just shook her head, grinning, and she walked off with Grace to finish whatever they were doing.

Before Rick could ask, T-Dog said, "Don't ask me what's got 'em smilin'. I'm just glad they're getting along."

"Grace pulled Maggie aside and gave her a bag," Carl said, having overheard from where he was arranging things in the truck bed, once again wearing Rick's hat.

"Do you know what it was?" Rick asked, curious.

His son shrugged. "I asked them, but they just said it was girl stuff and that I didn't want to know."

With that in mind, Rick wasn't entirely sure _he_ wanted to know what was in the bag and decided against asking one of the women what was in it. Even T-Dog seemed a little less curious, shaking his head and chuckling. The apocalypse of the undead might have made almost every resource scare, but even so, Lord only knows what the two women were calling "girl stuff".

After a few minutes of double checking the cabin, they were all set to leave. One by one the motorcycle and vehicles drove down the dirt road, Daryl on his motorcycle, Rick, Carl, and T-Dog in the grey Dodge Ram, Carol, Lori, and Beth in the red and grey Suburban, Hershel, Glen, and Maggie in the light green Hyundai, and behind them were Grace, Ashley, and Simon in the pale blue Ford truck. So many vehicles meant that they had to constantly be on the lookout for gas, oil, coolant, and spare parts just to stay mobile, but they needed each vehicle.

It occurred to Rick that Grace's truck didn't have a CB radio, something that each of his vehicles had for emergencies. He'd have to see if he could come across a functioning one at the prison.

"Can I help clear the prison?" Carl asked from the back seat, leaning forward a bit.

Glancing at him in the rear-view mirror, Rick replied, "We'll see. If it's as overrun as Grace says, I might have you stayin' back a ways to watch my back and make sure Mom is safe. Think you could do that?"

The young boy thought about it for a handful of seconds, and then he nodded. "Yeah."

Rick was relieved, because he wasn't going to let his son come into an environment as hostile as the prison if it truly was overrun. He didn't care how good of a shot Carl was or how capable – Carl was still his son. But if he wanted to avoid an argument with the boy, he had to make it seem like the job he had planned for Carl held great responsibility, a "man's job" so to speak. And Rick did trust his son to have his back, especially with how good of a shot he really had become, though if Lori had her way Carl wouldn't be carrying a gun.

The parenting of their son was another thing Rick and Lori disagreed on. Rick wanted Carl to know how to take care of himself and frequently has him participate in standing guard or clearing out houses/buildings that aren't massively overrun. Lori, on the other hand, would have Carl be unarmed and by her side constantly though she was aware that such actions to hide him from the horrors of the world were pointless. She was overly protective, and Rick could understand that, but he wasn't going to let his desire to protect and shield his son keep him from making sure Carl could take care of himself.

"Hey, little man," started T-Dog, inclining his head towards Carl. "How'd you get that hat back? Ashley slept with the damn thing all night long."

That was true, the little girl had slept with it. When Rick woke up in the morning, Ashley was cuddled into Grace's side across the room with the hat over her face. Carl had tried to take it while she slept but her hands snapped to it and held the hat tightly, making Grace laugh at the failed attempt.

Carl shrugged and replied, "Told her she could wear it if she got upset, if I could wear it while she's happy. She said okay and gave it back." Sighing, he added, leaning back against the seat, "She wanted to ride with me or Beth, but Simon said Grace wouldn't let her."

T-Dog shot Rick a look, and Rick got the message.

"Carl, Grace is responsible for Ashley. You take her word, not Simon's, okay?" Rick instructed.

Carl nodded. "I figured she'd let her, but… I don't know, I didn't want Simon gettin' mad around Ashley. She told me and Beth before leavin' that he can get real mean sometimes."

"Yeah, I heard about that," Rick said with a short nod. To T-Dog, he explained, "Simon's thrown things and punched walls before while mad. Grace said when he gets like that she separates him and Ashley."

His friend snorted, shaking his head. "Nice kid."

"We shouldn't bring him," Carl muttered irritably, looking out the window at the passing trees.

Rick sighed, focusing on following Daryl – he'd gotten directions from Grace and was leading the way. "Have to."

"Why?" Carl asked. "He's not Grace's son and he's dangerous. Shoulda just left him at the cabin."

"Might not be blood, but Grace sees him as her son," he replied coolly, not wanting to debate the matter that had already been settled. "Grace wouldn't come without him."

"Why'd you ask her to come, anyways?" came another question, his son seemingly full of them today.

Rick hesitated for a second, and then answered, "Was the right thing to do."

The answer didn't satisfy Carl, not after seeing his father's handling of Randall, how he delayed dealing with Shane, and the various other actions he made over the past months. The boy was too smart to take that answer as the full truth.

Staring at him, Carl's eyes narrowed and he asked curiously, "Do you like her?"

Beside him, T-Dog's lips twitched in amusement at the turn of the conversation, and Rick didn't appreciate it. "Sure, I like her. Seems like she can be an asset to the group."

"C'mon, man," T-Dog started on a slight chuckle. "We both know that's not what the kid meant."

"Maybe, but that's my answer," Rick replied tightly, only causing his friend to smirk.

There was silence for the next few minutes, and for that Rick was grateful. He was all for talking to his son and T-Dog, but not about women. That just wasn't going to happen. But whether he liked the topic or not, it appeared to be one his son wasn't ready to drop, judging by how he saw him constantly opening his mouth but shutting it in the rear-view mirror, unsure of how to phrase what he wanted to say.

When he did come up with a sentence, Carl said hesitantly, "You know… Mom was happy while she was with Shane, back when he was himself. She doesn't think I know they were together, but I do."

Rick bristled. "Carl."

"It's just that you and Mom aren't happy, so maybe if you were with Gr –"

"Carl," he warned sharply, bringing his son's reasoning to a halt. "This isn't a discussion you and I are having. Your mother and I… we're gonna try workin' through things once we're settled," he lied.

"Mom loved Shane before he changed. You guys just hate each other," Carl mumbled quietly, shaking his head, not believing him for a second.

His son spoke so quietly Rick almost didn't hear him, but he did and his son's words made him start. Even T-Dog looked a little taken aback, glancing back at Carl.

They all were aware that he was affected by Rick and Lori's nearly nonexistent marriage, but he hadn't thought that Carl believed they hated each other. They didn't hate each other, not really… Rick didn't think they hated each other at least. Did they like each other? No, not really, but hate wasn't a word Rick would use, though it came pretty close. To hear his son call the relationship of his parents a hateful one whilst saying that Lori had loved Shane once made Rick's thoughts run rampant, but Carl insinuating before he was cut off that maybe Rick would be happy with Grace was startling. The boy had yet to warm up to Grace, though he had befriended her daughter.

How Carl came to his conclusion was something he'd have to talk to him about later.

The end of that uncomfortable conversation ended the possibility for any of topic to be discussed, and Rick was more than happy to drive in silence, just as his friend and son were happy to remain quiet. With the prison only a little further up the road, he needed to focus on the task at hand, not on Grace, not on his wife, not his son, and not on anything or anyone else. If his head wasn't in the game, he could get people killed.

Regardless, he'd have to talk to Carl later.

Sometime later, Daryl turned down a road on the right and Rick followed, trailed by the other vehicles as they passed a sign for West Georgia Correctional Facility. The trees were thick and it was hard to see anything, but they came to the clearing that held the prison a few minutes after entering the road.

The prison itself looked large, as did the fenced in yard, and the creek being so close could provide a constant source of fresh water. Thus far, the battered prison looked like a palace, and Rick brought the truck to a stop before getting out and walking up to the fence.

One by one, everyone joined him, weapons in hand.

Grace was right. The gate to the courtyard was wide open, allowing the walkers to filter in and out, but with the main gate locked, they couldn't get out of the yard and nothing could get in. In the case of walkers, that was a good thing, but it left Rick and the others with a problem – how were _they_ going to get in without compromising the security of the fence too greatly?

"Why don't you climb on over, Grimes?" Simon commented dryly, looking up at the barbwire ringed around the top.

Rick glanced at the boy, frowning, while Grace smacked him upside the head for the comment.

Though he would have preferred keeping the fence as intact as possible, he realized as he gave it a tug that they'd probably have to settle on cutting through it. On the bright side, having a place in the chain-link to get in and out of in case of an emergency wasn't a bad idea.

"Gonna have to cut our way through," Rick announced, walking farther from the entrance. "We'll seal it shut with that cable in the truck and use it to get in and out. The main gate will only be opened for the cars. Keeps the risk of walkers getting' in low, I think."

Everyone seemed on board with the plan, but Grace looked down along the fence and tensed. "Yeah, sounds great. Can we hurry this up?"

Following her line of sight, Rick spotted a handful of walkers on their side making their way over. They had enough bullets for the small group, but no one wanted to waste a single one or the energy on stabbing them when they could just pick up the pace and get through the fence.

Kicked into gear, they grabbed the items of most importance from the vehicles, from chains to cables, and guns and melee weapons. Anything else could be retrieved later on if it became clear that they were definitely moving in.

Bolt cutters in hand, Rick returned to the fence and started cutting while Glenn and Maggie took out a walker that was ahead of the group. As soon as the gap was cut to head height, Daryl went in to help hold the pieces apart for everyone to get through, and the moment Rick was inside, Glenn hurriedly sealed the gap with the orange cable and they ran along the gravel walkway to the main gate.

"We'll have to get that bus outta the way if you want to get the cars in here," Grace commented, pointing her crowbar at the overturned bus.

"We can deal with that later," he replied, staring into the yard as walkers snarled and groaned while clawing at the fence in a vain attempt to get at them. He looked to the gate up at the courtyard and nodded to himself, formulating a plan, and he pointed to it. "If we can shut that gate, prevent more of them from fillin' the field, we can pick off these walkers. We'll take the field by noon."

Hershel stepped forward and asked, "But how do we shut the gate?"

"Mad dash?" Simon suggested, seriously this time. "Have someone run in one direction while the other runs to the gate and closes it. Then you just pick 'em off one by one."

Daryl glanced at Rick and shrugged. "Not a half bad idea."

"So who's the runner and who's the bait?" Carol asked.

Rick shook his head and said, "No one's goin' in as the bait. Just one runner, that's it."

"Then I'll go," Glenn volunteered, bringing a frown to Maggie's sweaty face. "You guys cover me."

"No way!" Simon snapped, stepping towards Glenn, stopping only when Grace grabbed his arm. "It was my plan! I'm going!"

"It's a suicide run for anyone who goes," Maggie pointed out, speaking mostly to Glenn.

Glenn insisted, "I'm the fastest."

Simon snapped, "It was _my _plan!"

"Neither of you are going," Rick decided, irritated with the childish behavior coming from Simon. Having already figured out what he was going to do while Glenn and Simon argued about who was going, he gave out instructions, "Glenn, you, Maggie, Beth, Grace, Simon, and Ashley draw as many as you can over there. Pop 'em through the fence. Daryl, go back to the other tower. Carol, you've become a pretty good shot – take your time, we don't have a lot of ammo to waste. Hershel, you and Carl take this tower." As Grace started hurrying off with the others to their tasks, he called, "Grace, hold up."

She walked back over with Simon close behind while Ashley stuck with Beth. "Yeah?"

Removing his Python from its holster, he handed it to her, and explained, "You mentioned you didn't have ammo yesterday. I want you to hold onto this 'til we get you some ammo or another gun. Would put me at ease."

She tested its weight in her hand before nodding, giving him a small smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it. Can't say I'll nail too many in the head. Never was a fantastic shot." Noticing how he was standing close to the gate while Lori stood ready to open it, she added, "Let me guess – you're the runner?"

"Yeah."

She nodded slowly. "Be careful, Rick."

"I will," he assured her, and he brushed his hand along her elbow briefly, making her smile all the more, before he turned towards the gate.

Lori looked both uncomfortable and disgusted by the exchange, but she said nothing, only grasped the chain-link between her fingers. Just before she pulled it open for Rick, a hand landed on her shoulder, making her jump.

"I'll do it," Simon offered, still irritated about not running. "Pregnant lady shouldn't be too close to the fence. Might get bit."

Rick was more than a little surprised by Simon's offer, as were Grace and Lori, judging by how Grace stopped mid-walk back to the gate where the others were shouting and how Lori stared from the boy to Rick, frowning. After the fit he pitched about not being able to run to the courtyard gate, it was surprising to hear him trying to be helpful.

Maybe it was just the kid's way of feeling important, opening and closing the gate. If that was the case, Rick was inclined to let him take Lori's place.

Looking to his estranged wife, he said, "Keep an eye out for anything going wrong. We've got this."

"I don't think it's a good idea," she argued, eying Simon warily.

"I said," he began firmly. "We've got this."

Lori ground her teeth, shaking her head slightly before turning to follow Grace over to the others.

Sighing, Rick chose to just ignore Lori's behavior and looked to Simon. "Ready?"

The boy nodded, an eager smile on his face, and he replied, "Definitely."

His tone and smile made Rick pause, frowning. The boy was a little too eager for pulling the gate open, and he hoped he wasn't planning on doing what Rick thought he was planning. "You just make sure that gate's closed behind me."

"Sure," he replied, not paying much attention to him, focused on the courtyard up the hill.

Rick had a pretty good feeling that Simon was going to make a run for it, but he needed to give him the chance to prove him wrong. If he did run for the gate, Rick was going to throttle him, and it would qualify as his first strike.

Crouching, ready, Rick gave the boy a nod.

Simon took a deep breath and pulled the gate open, not making a move to run, and Rick breathed a sigh of relief and hurried through, hearing the gate shut behind him.

"Simon, no!" Grace shouted, startling Rick.

Just when the cop thought the kid's intentions had been merely helpful, Simon bolted past him with his knife in his hand, dodging the walkers that weren't drawn to the noise the others were making.

"Damn it!" Rick hissed under his breath and hurried after him, shooting the closest walkers with his silenced handgun.

Daryl, Hershel, and Carl provided much needed assistance, while Carol came close to shooting him once or twice. Rick truly appreciated their help, needing to get to the stupid kid as quickly as possible. The way Simon was darting around the nearby walkers without killing them only drew more in. If he didn't get to him, Simon would get himself killed all because of his ego.

As if to prove how foolish he was being, Simon's momentum turned against him when a few walkers maneuver in front of him and he stumbled a few steps before falling to the gravel road with a painful thud.

It gave Rick the chance to catch up to him and he shot the walkers closing in. Grabbing the back of the boy's shirt, he hauled him to his feet and ran the final few steps to the gate. He kicked a walker back into the courtyard before slamming it shut and latching it with the chain he'd gotten from the truck while Simon dug his knife into the skull of a walker through the fence, egging them on.

Taking a few seconds to shoot the walkers nearing them and clearing the entrance to the guard tower of the two within, he rushed back over to Simon and grabbed him by the shirt again.

When Simon struggled, Rich shouted angrily, "Get in there!" He practically threw the boy inside.

"What the hell, man?" Simon demanded, knife still in his hand as he panted. "I coulda gotten to the gate! You didn't even give me a chance!"

"I said you weren't goin' for the gate. What part of that did you not understand?"

"It was my fucking plan!" he shouted, voice rising an octave. "I wanted to –"

Rick grabbed his knife hand and twisted, disarming him to prevent him from doing anything in his enraged state, then shoved him back against the wall. "I don't care if you raise your voice or raise your knife – you do anything that'll cause a scene of any kind just once and you're gone, you hear me?"

"Good, don't wanna be here with you all in the first place," he snapped.

"I get that, but too bad for you both Grace and Ashley do want to be here," he argued.

"They'd never let me go on my own," Simon pointed out, smirking darkly. "Grace'll come with me if you kick me out, whether she wants to or not. She won't leave me on my own."

"That's the only reason you're gettin' another chance." Raising his gun, he pressed it to the boy's head, and his threat of death succeeded in wiping the smirk from the boy's face, replacing it with a gulp. Angrily, Rick snarled, "You threatened our chances of getting that gate closed 'cause we had to cover your sorry ass. Frankly, I don't like you, and from what I understand you've got one nasty temper that's made Grace worry. Were she not in the equation, I'd shoot you now." He paused, letting that fact sink in, and only once Simon swallowed nervously did he continue, "I see you've got a habit of not givin' a damn about groups, but Grace seems to think you care about her and Ashley. So let's say you do screw up and do somethin' stupid – how's Grace gonna feel about you forcin' her and her daughter away from people she wants to be around?" Hearing the gun fire coming from outside as the others picked off the walkers, Rick added, "You think about that next time you feel like actin' out."

Backing off, he pulled the rifle he'd brought with him from his back and jogged up the stairs to help pick off the walkers in the field as well as to take out his anger. Each walker he hit made him feel a little better, but he was far from in a good mood.

Were Simon anyone else he wouldn't have thought twice in regards to shooting him, but because it was the boy Grace cared so much about he'd given him one more chance. The last thing Rick wanted was for Grace and her little girl to leave, but if Simon screwed up he'd have no choice but to kick him out for the safety of the group. If it came down to that, Rick only hoped he could convince Grace to stay.

After a few more well placed shots, the last walker fell in the field and Rick put the strap of his rifle over his shoulder, allowing himself a few seconds to take in the space the field now offered to them. Not only did they have enough space to stretch their legs, they could park their vehicles without the fear of them being stolen, Carl, Ashley, and Beth could have a chance to act their age for a change, and they could even start planting crops, all without the fear of a walker sneaking up behind them to take a bite. Once they were able to get into the prison itself, they'd have even more space.

In time, the prison could be the closest thing to a home any of them have had since the farm.

Movement towards the entrance caught his attention and he saw Grace running towards the guard tower with Ashley, Carl, Glenn, and Maggie not too far behind, and Rick sighed as he made his way back down the steps where Simon was still standing with his arms crossed, his knife tucked into his belt.

"Let's go," Rick ordered.

Simon sighed, stepping out the door to face the music.

Less than half a minute later, Grace reached him, and she was positively pissed.

"What the fuck was that?" she demanded, voice raised and face flushed with anger and the heat.

Simon shrugged.

Grace only grew madder with his silence. "What, did you bite off your tongue when you fell on your face?"

"I thought I could get to the gate first. It was my plan, so –"

"It was your plan, but you couldn't wrap that stupid head of yours around the fact that you're a part of a group now and Rick was the one making the run," she snapped.

He snorted. "Grimes put a gun to my head and said he was gonna shoot me."

At that, Grace paused, jaw dropping fractionally, and she looked to Rick.

"That's not exactly how it happened," Rick explained, wanting to alleviate her concerns quickly. "I told him that were he not with you, were he anyone else, I'd have shot him to keep the group safe."

"Like it matters," Simon grumbled, looking to Grace to back him up. When she remained silent as she stared at Rick, he frowned. "Grace?"

The woman remained quiet for several seconds, thinking over what both had said, before she replied tightly, "I think you'd better thank God that you're with me, Simon. Rick… he'd have been well within his rights to end the threat, and that threat was you. But he didn't, so you'd better thank him for that."

Simon gaped, dumbfounded. "You… but he… you'd let him shoot me?"

"Of course not, and I'm happy he didn't," she assured him. "But not everyone would have been as considerate as Rick about it. Anyone else would've killed you on the spot."

"But –"

"You're a part of this group now, Simon," she hissed. "Start acting like it."

Almost shaking, he was so mad, Simon snapped tightly, "Ain't. My. Group."

Grace pointed to the field behind him. "Take a walk. Now."

"Fine. C'mon, Ash," he said, holding his hand out to the little girl. When she didn't move, he repeated more firmly, "Come on."

Ashley shook her head, hiding behind Grace, frightened by Simon's actions and the angry exchange.

"Simon, just go," Grace sighed, angling her body to block Ashley more thoroughly. "Once you've cooled off I'll send her over to run around with you, okay? She doesn't wanna be around you when you're mad, right, Ashley?"

Ashley nodded and asked Simon around the dirty thumb in her mouth, "Can we play tag later?"

Staring at Ashley and hearing Grace's reasoning, he sighed and nodded.

"With Carl and Beth?" Ashley asked, perking up fractionally.

That didn't appear to sit well with Simon or Beth and Carl, but it was hard for any of them to say no to the little girls big green eyes, so they all nodded reluctantly, and Simon went on his way to cool down.

Looking at Rick again, Grace glanced over to Maggie and asked, "Can you take her for a second, please?"

Maggie looked between her and Rick before nodding, holding her hand out to Ashley.

"Come on, guys," Glenn said knowingly to Beth and Carl, steering them away. "We've gotta start piling up the walkers."

Rick waited until he was certain everyone was out of earshot before approaching Grace. He didn't want her to think he'd kill Simon on the spot if he messed up again, but she needed to know that he was serious. "I can't have him pulling that kind of stunt again. He could have jeopardized me getting to the gate or gotten himself killed. He does _anything _again, he's out of here. I won't shoot him, but he won't be stayin'."

"I know, I know," Grace sighed, raking her fingers through her sweaty hair. "You know I can't promise that he won't do something like this again, right?"

"Yeah, I know that."

"… Then you know that if he leaves, Ashley and I will leave too," she added softly, regretfully.

"Yeah, well, I'm hoping if it comes to that you'll have a reason to stay," he admitted, cocking his head slightly, studying her reaction.

Her eyes widen fractionally, reading something in his words that he could only imagine, and she worried on her lower lip. "It would have to be a damn good reason for me to stay, so…"she trailed off and shrugged, looking anywhere but at him. "Hopefully it won't come down to choosing Simon or you and the group. I don't want to do that."

He didn't want it to come down to that either, but he had a feeling that it would whether they wanted it to or not. Simon was unstable, possibly dangerous, so it was only a matter of time before he did something that put them at risk again.

Rick only hoped that by that time, Grace found her reason to stay with the group and with him.

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_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_

_**A little insight into Carl's behavior at the beginning of the chapter... Rick and Lori were having serious marital problems before the walkers, then Lori gets together with Shane and she's happy, then she breaks things off with Shane when Rick gets back and are happy for a while before things start going down hill again, now Grace comes into the picture and makes Rick smile when Lori can't. The way I have it, Carl's kinda put two and two together and figures that together, Rick and Lori are unhappy, but when one is with someone else everything is good.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **_**I really want to say that I love the reviews this story is getting! You're all great!**_

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"You're gonna give yourself heatstroke if you don't change into something cooler," Hershel commented, sitting beside Grace while she lay back in the grass watching the clouds, the others sitting nearby as they munched on a little bit of deer for lunch, minus Rick, Daryl, and Carol who were off doing something else.

"I'm fine," she assured him, though in reality she felt like she was cooking.

Everyone was uncomfortable under the hot sun, but because of the tight long-sleeve shirt she wore to hide her scars she felt like she was in an oven, and the sweat making her shirt stick to her certainly didn't help any. A few of the others had long-sleeves on as well, but their clothes were made of a lighter material and their sleeves were pushed up. Grace just wasn't comfortable letting anyone see the scars until they faded more. The marks of her past just weren't something she was ready for anyone to see, and though she trusted Rick not to judge her based on the scars and her history, she didn't know any of these people too well, and in truth she still wasn't comfortable with the idea of letting Rick see them again. So while she helped out after they took the field, she only pushed her sleeves up high enough to get a little relief while keeping her tracks hidden.

A peal of laughter coming from Ashley drew their attention down the field where the little girl was being chased by Carl seconds before being tagged. Despite Simon's problem with the group, and Carl and Beth's problem with Simon, they were all at least trying to get along for Ashley's sake.

"They're all going to collapse by the time they're done," Grace commented, smiling at how Ashley appeared to be having fun for the first time since their group was killed.

Lori watched her son fondly, almost sadly, and drummed her fingers on her belly as she said, "I can't remember when Carl smiled that much."

"Might be havin' fun with Ashley and Beth, but I can't say he's too thrilled to be playin' with Simon," Maggie observed, noticing how the two boys avoided each other like the plague whilst trying to best each other at the game.

T-Dog shook his head at the boys. "It's like the kid version of a pissing contest."

"Has Simon always been like that?" Glenn asked. "I mean, you knew his mom. Did she ever say anything about him?"

Grace hesitated, but then figured the time for defending Simon ended when he ran for the gate after Rick told him he wasn't going. "I asked her a few times if there was something wrong with him, but she always dodged the question or found something to do. I never would've asked her about him except that Simon had a tendency to get overly pissed about things, even started a fight once. That was why Jacob stayed behind at camp while me and some others scouted out ahead to check out the prison – Simon got mad when a boy said something he didn't like and the two started hitting each other, and the other boy's friends joined in. All his mom ever told me was that he had a habit of overreacting and being paranoid, which was kind of obvious to everyone." Sighing, she added, "To be honest, he kind of reminds me of my mother and how she used to be before she and dad died in a car wreck. She was… unstable, too."

"That why you started doing drugs?" questioned Lori, eying Grace. "Family life too rough for you?"

Were it not for the condescending tone the woman used, Grace wouldn't have been too irritated with the topic, but she didn't like the tone or how she phrased it. She made it sound like she started using because she had a strict childhood or didn't get her way all the time, when that just wasn't the case.

Hershel frowned at Lori, then said to Grace, "You don't need to explain to us what got you into that mess, Grace."

Grace, however, ignored him and sat up, glaring at Lori. "You want me to tell you that because I wasn't allowed to have a toy from Wal-Mart, or that maybe my parents were too strict or cranky was enough for me to start shooting up? It wasn't," she snapped tightly. "My mother could be a real nice lady when she decided to take her pills, only she hated taking them, so she had violently manic episodes due to being bipolar constantly and didn't think twice about slapping me and my sister around. But then Heather left once she hit eighteen, leaving me and Dad to deal with Mom. Woulda had Dad to keep her away from me, had he been sober for more than ten minutes. And then they died in a wreck, hit by a drunk driver when I was ten, and I went to live with Heather, who was more concerned with work than helping me deal. So maybe the care and handling of issues was my business, not yours."

No one spoke after that, and Lori bit her lip and looked away while she picked at a few blades of grass.

If Grace wanted to succeed in making everyone uncomfortable, she certainly did a good job. She hadn't wanted to give her childhood history, but she wanted to shut Lori up and prevent her from thinking she had a pointless excuse for turning to drugs. Was doing heroin the answer to her problems? No, definitely not, but the years of taking the brunt of her parents' abuse and neglect only to be overlooked by her own sister left her feeling lost, and thus she fell into the wrong crowed.

"What did you do before all of this, Grace?" Hershel asked, bringing a much needed change to the subject.

"Well, no one in King County would hire me because of my reputation as a junky, and I was unwilling to travel to other towns for work and leave Ashley for too long, so officially I was unemployed," she replied, adjusting her sleeves. "Unofficially, I was sort of running a daycare out of my apartment."

"A daycare?" Lori questioned, both stunned and horrified at the prospect of a junky looking after children.

Glenn took a drink from his water bottle, and then said, "No offense, but… people let _you_ watch their kids? I mean, you seem nice now, but back then you were getting high all the time, right?"

"Sure, no one sane would let me look after their kids, but nearly everyone in my apartment building was a junky or alcoholic, the apartments there being the only places we could afford," she explained.

Lori nodded in confirmation. "The apartments had termites and were just in dismal conditions. Man who ran it was a pig if there ever was one."

"Oh, we all felt the same way about him," Grace agreed with a nod. "But none of us wanted to waste money that could be spent on drugs or alcohol, so in exchange for low rent we signed a contract to keep our mouths shut and take care of the maintenance ourselves. But back to the daycare thing, a bunch of the other tenants had kids and took jobs that kept them away from home half the time or were out getting high and whatnot, so in exchange for sixty bucks per kid upfront, I'd watch their kids. Safer they stay with me than anyone else in the building – I didn't shoot up in front of Ashley or the other kids, nor did I keep my drugs and needles in reach of them. We all knew each other, so they trusted me to keep an eye on their kids while they were gone. On average, I was watching seven kids at different times almost every day. Only time I got a break was during school hours."

"That's usually when Rick ran into you, right?" Lori asked.

"Yep, during school hours or late in the evening, one or the other, but sometimes twice in a day." Tapping her fingers on her knee, she waited for more questions, but when none came and the silence lingered longer than she would have liked, she to those around her. "So, that was my job. What about you guys? What'd you all do for a living?"

"I was a veterinarian," replied Hershel, finishing his portion of lunch. "Which makes me the doctor of the group. Also owned a farm that had been in my family for over one-hundred-sixty years, and Maggie was a farmhand, along with a few others."

That was lucky. All her old group had prior to them dying was a school nurse.

"Worked at a church, delivering clothes and food to those less fortunate, also picked up some of the older church goers who couldn't get there on their own." said T-Dog. "Was a rough neighborhood, but damn near everyone found a way to get to Sunday worship. I knew the pastor since I was a kid, and he gave me a job once I could drive. Never left it."

Grace never went to church, mostly because her parents and sister never took her and by the time she was old enough to get their on her own she was too drugged up to give a damn. She liked to think there was a higher power of some kind, but she wasn't religious.

Glenn raised his hand, lips quirking upwards in a slight smile. "Pizza delivery guy."

Staring at him, Grace almost wanted to laugh. "Seriously?"

He nodded.

"And you're a housewife, I'm guessing? Same with Carol?" When Lori nodded, she pointed her thumb towards Daryl where he stood talking and eating with Carol near the entrance of the fence. "And him? What'd he do? And what's the deal with them – they a couple or something?"

"I know he's a hunter," T-Dog replied, shrugging. "Other than that we don't know, he don't talk much about himself. But he and Carol ain't involved. Just good friends."

"Okay, so basically this merry band of survivors is made up of a cop, a hunter, a church worker, a veterinarian, a pizza boy, a farmhand, two housewives, four kids, and a daycare running junky?" she summed up, laughing slightly at how absurd it sounded that _they _were the ones surviving. "Rick and Daryl, I can understand, but us? Ten months ago, nothing about us would've screamed 'future survivor of the zombie apocalypse'."

Smiles followed her observation along with a few chuckles. Even Lori smiled faintly, surprising Grace. She'd have thought the woman would've found something to snap at in what she said. Surprised or not, if her comment got them all smiling she didn't care.

Maggie, smiling and laughing quietly, said, "God, you make us sound so incredibly screwed when you put it that way."

Last night, Grace wouldn't have been able to get the young woman to smile at something she said, much less talk pleasantly with her if it had nothing to do with the prison. Ever since she gave Maggie that bag of goodies – a few disposable razors, a handful of tampons, and a half-empty tube of orange scented hand lotion – she'd been much more friendly. End of the world or not, women still liked smooth legs and underarms, and that didn't appear to be a preference that would change anytime in the near future for Grace or Maggie, nor would the overwhelming desire for the particular necessities during "that time of the month" go away, and she found she could only smile at her new-found friend.

The others were probably wondering why she and Maggie were suddenly getting along, and Glenn and Carl had already asked what had been in the bag or what was going on, but she and Maggie were keeping the bag contents to themselves. Not even Rick was pressing for an answer to their sudden friendship, and she'd have thought he'd want an explanation for any change in the behavior of the group. He just seemed to want to be knowledgeable about whatever was going on.

Thinking about Rick, she looked around the field and found him once again walking along the fence. "How many times is he going to do that, check the fence? This is what, his third or fourth lap?"

"His third," Hershel replied with a frown as he watched the cop check the fence. "If there was any part of it compromised, he'd have found it by now."

Considering how thorough he'd been the first time walking along the fence surrounding both the courtyard and then the field, she got the feeling he was using the fence as an excuse to stay away. He had told her that everyone questioned what he did, with the exception of Daryl, and given that he and Lori were one lawyer away from a divorce – if it were possible to get a legal divorce anymore – it seemed more than likely that her thoughts were probably correct.

Still, walking around by himself like he was doing was bound to get lonely after a while.

"Does he do stuff like that a lot?" she asked, frowning as she watched Rick.

"Yeah, he started doing things like walking the perimeter of wherever we took shelter or camped for the night repeatedly over the past months," Glenn replied with a nod, his smile fading, replaced with something reminiscent of guilt. "After we fled Hershel's farm when a herd came through, Rick… well, things got real rough after that."

"Rick changed," Lori added quietly, picking at her finger nails.

She snorted, glancing at Lori. "Yeah, I wonder why."

Lori's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all, Lori," Grace replied with a shrug, giving the woman a falsely sweet smile. As the smile left her face while the tension rose in the air, she turned her eyes back to Rick and tapped her fingers a few times before she announced, rising to her feet, "I'm gonna go walk with him. Some company never hurts."

"Rick doesn't want company when he goes on his walks," Lori protested quickly, looking from her husband to Grace, a look of wariness on her face. "It's how he gets his peace and quiet from everyone else."

"He tell you that?"

She frowned angrily. "He doesn't need to tell me. I'm his wife – I know."

"Well, if you know so much about your husband, how could you believe for a second he'd murder his best friend?" she retorted tightly, taking bitter satisfaction in how the other woman's jaw dropped, in the guilt that shown in her eyes.

"I… I never thought that, and what happened between them is none of your business," Lori hissed.

"Hey, Rick talked and I listened," Grace replied coolly, raising her hands innocently. "Thought someone should stick up for him for a change. You should try it sometime, Mrs. Grimes."

Before Lori could snap at her in angered embarrassment, Hershel interrupted sternly, "That's enough, both of you."

Biting her lip to prevent from saying anything to further anger Lori, Grace quickly turned and jogged towards Rick as he passed the entrance to the courtyard. Jogging probably wasn't the best thing to do in the blistering heat whilst wearing long-sleeves, but she just wanted to hurry up and get to him before she decided to turn around and poke at Lori some more. That woman just pushed her buttons in the wrong way and she didn't like her.

When she was at last within earshot of him so she wouldn't have to shout, she called, "Hey, Rick?"

He slowed to a stop, turning slightly towards her.

"Thought you could use some company," she mused, stopping a few feet away from him in case he didn't want her around.

For a moment he said nothing, but then he nodded and waved her over.

"Any problems with the fence?" she asked as she caught up to him, walking side by side.

"None. Looks like it's in pristine condition. Doubt we'll have any problems with it," he replied.

"Great," she said, glancing at him. "So, during which lap did you figure that out?"

Rick looked at her momentarily, but then sighed and admitted, "Doing this gives me time to think things through. It's quiet, and no one's pesterin' me about what I'm doin'."

Grace wrung her fingers, recalling what Lori had said, and asked, "So… you could say that you're doing this for, I dunno, the peace and quiet?"

"I guess you could say that," he replied with a nod, mildly confused with her sudden nervousness.

Grace wanted to kick herself hard in the head for what she said to Lori earlier, and she groaned. Leave it to her to act like a bitch when the pregnant woman she was hassling was right. She felt like such an idiot.

Noticing her sudden onset of embarrassment, Rick stared at her, concerned, and asked, "You all right?"

"No, not really," she grumbled, kicking a small rock out of her way. "Your wife and I kinda got into it a minute ago."

"Wanna elaborate?"

Worrying on her lower lip, she sighed and explained, "I noticed you'd been walking around alone for a while, so I said I'd go keep you company. Lori got all huffy and claimed you were doing this for the peace and quiet, I asked how she knew that, and she said she knew because she was your wife, and I, uh," she trailed off, rubbing the back of her sweaty neck. "I kinda asked her how she could think you murdered Shane if she knows you so well."

Coming to a stop, Rick faced her, stunned. "You said _what _to her?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" she apologized quickly, feeling all the more stupid. "She just bugs the hell out of me, and after how she's treated you since you killed Shane I just really don't like her, and I thought that it was time that someone stood up for you, so I opened my big mouth. But it turns out she was right and you were up here for some peace and quiet, and all I succeeded in doing was making a complete fool out of myself." She willed her eyes up to Rick's face, and at his astonished look she took the hint and started backing away. "So now that I've succeeded in shoving my foot in my mouth and ticking you off, I'm gonna go find a hole to hide in now."

Just as she turned to go sulk and hide, Rick reached out and grabbed her gently by the wrist, stopping her. "I'm not angry, Grace. Just surprised someone finally told her that. Lord knows I've wanted to."

She relaxed fractionally, relieved that he wasn't pissed at her for causing problems, and she didn't fight when he pulled her back over. When he released her wrist to continue walking along the fence with her, she couldn't deny that she was a little disappointed by the loss of contact.

Thinking about Lori, Grace definitely wasn't rooting for their marriage working out, believing that Rick would be happier without having to deal with the woman's constant judging and her past with Shane, but he had said that early on he'd tried to fix things between them only to give up once it seemed pointless. But Lori seemed more than a little defensive of what Rick was doing and had been spot on in regards to why he was walking in circles along the fence, so maybe she was starting to come around to some extent.

She doubted Rick wanted to work things out with Lori anymore, and she kind of hoping he didn't, but if he did she had to at least speak up. "You know, Lori was right about you wanting some peace and quiet up here," she commented, watching Rick closely. "And she was a little defensive about why you were walking and didn't seem to want me bugging you."

He sighed, a shadow falling over his face. "So?"

"So, maybe she's coming around. Might be a chance to fix your marriage at some point," she explained uneasily, the words leaving a bad taste in her mouth.

Rick was silent, and Grace could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. Unpleasant thoughts, judging by the frustrated set of his jaw and his silence. That there was pretty much his answer to what he thought about fixing his marriage. Still, she needed to put the option out there.

After considering her words, Rick said in a resigned tone, "If she's lookin' to fix things, that time's come and gone. I was willin' to forgive her for sleepin' with Shane, for trying to abort the pregnancy, but I can't forgive her for how she reacted to me killin' him."

Grace stared at him, jaw falling slack. "She tried to abort the baby?"

He nodded. "Took some Mornin' After pills. She was just afraid of bringin' a baby into a world full of walkers, and that was the first time I'd ever yelled at her about anythin'." Shaking his head, he sighed and added, "Right after takin' them, she threw them up, though, so that was really why I could forgive her for that."

"Can't say I blame her for being scared. A baby crying is essentially a dinner bell for walkers, and it's not like it can get looked over by a pediatrician," Grace said sadly, hating how dangerous this new world was for children and especially infants.

"I'm worried about that too," Rick insisted. "But we've got Hershel, and now we have the prison. When the baby cries, the walkers won't be able to get to it or anyone else. This is our chance to reclaim our lives. But my marriage? That's not goin' to be fixed."

"Why not tell her that?" she asked, pulling at her shirt that stuck to her in the heat. "I would think that ending things with her sooner rather than later would make things easier for you both."

"Maybe," he admitted with a heavy sigh. "Been somethin' that I've been thinkin' about for a while now."

"You worried about how Carl will take it?"

At that, he actually smirked dryly. "I think he actually wants me to end things with Lori."

She blinked. "Oh?"

"He said that Lori loved Shane before he fell apart after I came back, and that I'd happier with…" he trailed off, hesitating and glancing at her out of the corner of his eye briefly before shutting his mouth.

"That you'd be happier with…?" she pressed, curious. "C'mon, what'd he say?"

Clearing his throat, he answered, "Just that I'd be a little happier with being separated, that's all. Seems to think that when his mom and I aren't together, we're happier. Can't say he's wrong in thinkin' that, just surprised to hear him say it is all."

"Kids tend to notice things we'd rather they didn't," she pointed out with a sigh.

"Ain't that the truth," he muttered, glancing at her again and succeeding in making her feel self-conscious.

Why did he keep looking at her like he knew something she didn't? It was enough to make her antsy. Did she smell worse or was she dirtier than she thought? It was unlikely that would bother him, considering none of them looked or smelled great, though Grace would happily make the argument that Rick was still attractive though he needed a shower and a shave – though maybe not a shave, she decided silently, looking at him briefly. In truth, she kind of liked the beard and could only vaguely remember him without it. Either way, he was still a very handsome man.

"Mommy!" Ashley called, panting and running up the hill towards them while Carl, Beth, and Simon waited farther away, not sure of what she was up to.

"Everything okay, kiddo?" she asked worriedly. "Did you get hurt?"

Ashley shyly looked around her at Rick before beckoning her down to her level with her index finger. Taking the hint, Grace knelt down, tucking her hair behind her ear. With one last look at Rick, the little girl cupped her hands around Grace's ear and whispered, "Everyone's too fast and Carl knows it but he tagged me anyways. Can I cheat so I can catch him, please?"

Grace smiled, her worry vanishing at her daughter's request, and she stood and said, "I don't know, Ash. Cheating isn't playing fair at all." Smiling, her bright eyes turning to Rick, she added, "You're gonna have to ask Rick if it's okay."

Ashley's shyness appeared in spades, and Grace briefly felt bad for putting her on the spot, but she had to get used to Rick. This was as good a time as any to get him on the little girl's good side.

Kneeling down to the girl's level so as not to intimidate her, Rick gave her a friendly, fatherly smile, and asked, "What's up, Ashley?"

Her thumb went to her mouth and she took a step back, half hiding behind Grace.

Rick glanced up at Grace, and she just gave him a half-smile at her daughter's reaction.

Deciding to go easy on Ashley, she asked her quietly, "Want me to ask him?"

Looking up at her, Ashley nodded.

"She would like to know if she can cheat so she can tag Carl. Apparently he tagged her and everyone is faster than her," said Grace with an amused smile.

Smiling wider, Rick chuckled a bit and nodded to Ashley. "Sweetheart, you are more than welcome to cheat, but just this once so you can get him, okay?"

The little girl beamed at him, smiling around her thumb as she nodded and took off towards the other kids.

"What do you say, Ashley?" called Grace.

"Thanks!" Ashley said over her shoulder, but just as she got down the hill near Carl, she tripped, stumbling head over heels. A second later, she sat up, holding her knee and yelping repeatedly while her hair fell over her face.

Rick frowned, rising to his feet, but before he could take more than a step towards the little girl, Grace grabbed his arm. "She could be hurt," he said, shocked that she'd stop him.

"Just hold on a second," she advised, watching her little girl with a knowing smile.

Carl reached her before the other two did, calling her name worriedly. Dropping to his knees beside her, he made to look at her knee, only to suddenly find himself smacked in the chest after she snatched his hat and took off, shouting "tag, you're it" while everyone laughed. Carl didn't appear to be amused right off the bat, but soon he was on his feet chasing after whoever was closest.

"Clever little brat, my Ashley," said Grace with a smile.

"She sure knows how to make it sound like she's hurt," Rick observed, shaking his head with a smile. "Is she always that shy? I didn't think she was like that with Carl and Beth."

"Oh, she's fine around kids, but I taught her to never trust adults right off the bat unless I told her it's okay," she explained, rolling up her sleeves to just under her elbows, keeping her tracks hidden. "The other junkies and alcoholics in my apartment building might have trusted me to watch their kids for hours on end, but I sure as hell didn't trust them. I made sure she knew to never talk to adults in the building and to never walk off with anyone. Kinda prepared her for this way of living, but it might take her a while to get used to you."

He nodded, and then asked, baffled, "You watched other peoples' kids?"

"Long story, one I'm sure you'll hear details about later on," she replied with a smile, not wanting to get into it again. It wasn't long before her smile faded, replaced with a look of discomfort as she pulled at her shirt to get a little bit of air against her hot skin. "Christ, this sun is killing me."

"Don't you have anythin' cooler than what you're wearin'?"

She shook her head. "Our clothes were all lost when we escaped the herd that killed my old group. I just wash the clothes we have on our backs whenever I get the chance so we don't smell too terrible."

"Talk to Maggie – she might have something you can wear," he instructed. Looking into the prison courtyard, he added thoughtfully, "Shortly, we should be out of the sun altogether. That'll at least cool you down a little."

Grace cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

Stopping, he said, "We need to get into the prison itself. This heat's not good for any of us, and once we're inside we'll be able to find medical supplies, food, beds, everything we'll need to start over to some degree. Better to get moved in as soon as we possibly can."

Grace rubbed the back of her neck and walked closer to the fence. Walkers reacted and began chewing at the chain-link with their chipped and rotted teeth whilst trying to shove their decaying hands through to reach her. There had to be at least twenty of them in there, possibly more hiding around the corner, and who knew how many were inside the prison.

"I like the idea of sleeping with four walls around me as much as anyone, Rick, don't get me wrong," she started carefully. "But first the field, then the courtyard, and after that the interior? You can't tell me that isn't a lot in one day."

"It is, I know, but wouldn't it be better to learn early if we can live inside or not?" he asked, facing her at the fence.

"What's the harm in waiting until tomorrow morning when it's cooler?" she argued. "I mean, jeez, we could all get heatstroke if we work too hard in this heat."

"We could also get heatstroke just by sittin' out in the sun like this," he countered, frustrated, hot, and uncomfortable. Grinding his teeth, he glanced at the walkers for a moment before looking back to her. "If it's too packed with walkers, clearing it could take days. At least this way we can figure out if we can have beds tonight or if it'll have to be sleeping bags and blankets. And we need the food, and beds wouldn't hurt for a change."

She worried on her lower lip, thinking about it. All she wanted was to make sure they were all ready when they went in to clear the courtyard and prison, not wanting anyone to get sick or hurt because they were overheated and tired. Everyone was beat and a little dehydrated from the intense heat. What they all needed was a day to just relax. But when she looked at Rick's face, saw the pleading look in his blue eyes, she found the words stuck in her throat.

How long had it been since someone other than Daryl just followed his lead without questioning the task, assignment, or whatever? She thought that Lori should support him even if she didn't agree, and here was Grace, telling him how she didn't think it was a good idea and trying to get him to reconsider. She didn't want to cause Rick any more stress, in fact, she wanted to do the opposite. If there was a way she could help take at least some of the weight off his shoulders and mind, she would do it.

Sighing heavily, she nodded, holding his eyes with hers. "So, how are we doing this? Y'all mentioned you weren't full on ammo earlier."

The frustration and hard set of his jaw eased away with each second now that she was going along with his plan. Posture relaxing, he replied, "Hand-to-hand's the only real option we have since gunshots will just have us surrounded in seconds, and Daryl has his crossbow. We can take it, no problem."

"Well, if no shots will be fired, you can have this back," she said, pulling his Python from her the back of her jeans and giving it back. "Besides, it's like I said when you gave it to me – I'm not a good shot. Unless a walker's only a few feet from me, chances are I won't get a head-shot."

He put his gun back into its holster and asked seriously, "How'd you survive this long not being able to shoot very well?"

"Might not be a good shot, but I am good at up close and personal fights," she said, patting her crowbar that was hooked to her belt. "Jacob was trying to teach me how to shoot a little better early on, but it got to the point where we couldn't spare the ammo for target practice. We just stuck with what we were all good at, and then he and the others died, so, yeah."

"We're not doin' great on ammo, but once things are set up here, I'll take you down to the fence for some practice. Walkers make good targets," he offered.

A smile tugged at her lips. "Sure, as long as you think we can spare the ammo."

He nodded, and replied, "With any luck we'll find an armory around here to restock our ammo. It shouldn't be too much of a problem." Looking down the hill towards Daryl and Carol, he waited for his friend to look his way before pointing towards the group sitting together eating lunch. The crossbow wielding man nodded, and both he and Carol started making their way towards Hershel and the others. But before Rick made to meet them to explain things, he looked to Grace, noting her hesitation, and he sighed. "You don't like my plan, do you?"

Grace locked eyes with his, and she contemplated lying and telling him that she changed her mind, that she now thought it was a good idea, but that would probably hurt him more than honesty would. "No, I don't like it all that much," she admitted, and when he looked away, she put her hand on his arm. "But I trust you, so if you say we can do it, I believe you."

Rick smiled slightly but genuinely, and he raised his hand to give her a squeeze before letting go. He inclined his head towards the others, and she followed him back to the group to discuss taking the courtyard and prison.

Of everyone, she suspected that Daryl, T-Dog, and Glenn would be all right if not all for the idea of going in, maybe even Maggie, but she wasn't sure about the others. They might share her way of thinking and would want to wait until the morning to go in, or they might not want to go in at all if they felt the field was safe enough. Whatever their thoughts were, they'd have to get over their discrepancies quick. Rick didn't seem like he was going to waver in his decision to take the courtyard and prison all in one day after they only just took the field a little while ago. He wanted to get it all over and done with.

Noticing that something was going on, the four kids all ran over, and Ashley took Grace's hand and walked with her and Rick back to where everyone had gathered. Simon hung back a ways but Carl stayed close to his father's side, curious about what was up, and Beth went over to sit beside Hershel.

When they reached everyone, Grace took a seat on the grass, pulling her little girl into her lap to hold her as Carl quickly snatched his hat back with a smile that made Ashley giggle. He then sat down a few feet away from Lori and took a long drink of water. Simon remained standing, arms crossed. Daryl remained standing as well, though Carol moved to sit beside Lori.

Rick knelt between Lori and Carl, putting himself at eye level with almost everyone, and waited a few seconds to ensure that he had everyone's undivided attention. With one last glance at Grace, he said, "I know we're all exhausted from the heat. This was a great win, and it'd be great to just find some shade and sit around all day as a reward, but we gotta push just a little bit more." He paused, letting that sink in. "Most of the walkers are dressed as guards and prisoners. Looks like this place fell pretty early. Could mean the supplies might be intact. They'd have an infirmary, commissary –"

"An armory?" interrupted Daryl.

"That'd be outside the prison itself, but not too far away," Rick replied. "The warden's office would have information on the location. Weapons, food, medicine… this place could be a goldmine!"

A few people nodded – T-Dog and Glenn – and Daryl appeared to be on board, but Hershel pointed out, "We're dangerously low on ammo. We'll run out before we make a dent."

"Well, that's why we have to go in there – hand-to-hand." At that, some doubt appeared on their faces, and he was quick to add, "After all we've been through, we can handle it, I know it." He looked to his son as he picked at some grass, and said with a slight smirk, "These assholes won't stand a chance."

Carl looked up at him and his lips turned up in a small smile.

Sighing, T-Dog asked, "When'd you wanna do this?"

"About half-an-hour from now, so do whatever you need to do to get ready. You, Daryl, Glenn, and Maggie are coming with me to clear it out," he said, looking at each one of them as they nodded.

"I'll come too," Grace announced, causing everyone to stare at her.

"You don't have to," Rick started, but she shook her head.

"This way everyone will have someone watching their back – you and Daryl, Maggie and Glenn, and me and T-Dog," she explained, hoping he'd let her go. She needed to blow off a little steam and killing walkers through a fence hadn't cut it. Besides, this would give her the chance to show Rick and the others that she could be a valuable member of the group – Rick might believe that, but she felt she needed to prove herself to the others.

Rick stared at her, considering it, before looking at T-Dog.

"Hey, fine by me," said T-Dog with a shrug. Glancing up at Simon, he added dryly, "I can think of worse people watchin' my back."

"All right," Rick agreed slowly, looking to Simon briefly before turning his eyes to Grace. "If Simon doesn't cause trouble, we could use your help."

Reaching back to tap Simon's leg, she asked seriously, "You won't cause trouble, will you bud? You'll help keep everyone else safe?"

The teen ground his teeth together and opened his mouth, but glanced at Rick and shut it quickly, recalling whatever he'd talked about with the cop. Throwing out whatever he was going to say, he just nodded with a frustrated sigh.

To everyone else it would seem like he was still being a brat with his posture and expression, but Grace knew that it took a lot for him to keep his mouth shut.

With a nod, Rick hesitated momentarily before rising to his feet, walking off to take care of whatever he had planned, while Daryl sat down beside Carol to get something to drink some water and get a short breather before they headed up to the courtyard.

Tilting her head back, Ashley asked with a frown, "Mommy, do you have'ta go?"

"Yeah, yeah, I do," she replied with an apologetic smile. "Gotta help out the group, you know?"

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she nodded slowly. "Okay."

Lori rose from her spot on the ground suddenly, and though Grace continued threading her fingers through Ashley's hair while listening to the others talk, she watched the older woman make her way towards Rick. She hoped that she wasn't going to start questioning him about the prison.

He came to a stop with a heavy sigh, perhaps hearing her behind him, and turned to meet her halfway, though they were too far away for Grace to hear what was being said as Lori began speaking quietly. Whatever she was saying, Rick didn't look too happy about it when he replied.

Whatever she said next had a rather negative effect and Rick scoffed, scowling at her before he started walking away. She followed quickly after him, and he rounded on her, bringing her to an abrupt halt. From what Grace could see of him, he looked frustrated and angry as he spoke to his wife before finally just looking withdrawn and tired before walking away from her, and this time Lori didn't follow.

Grace watched them both sadly, feeling terrible for Rick and even a little bad for Lori. They were both torturing each other by dragging out their broken marriage, and she wished for both their sakes and for Carl's that they would just bring an end to it all and separate. She wanted to say that she wasn't secretly hoping they'd separate sooner rather than later so she wouldn't feel guilty for being attracted to a married man, but she couldn't do that. She wouldn't let anyone know of her selfish reasons for wanting them to separate, and whatever Rick decided to do with his marriage she'd be supportive of his decision.

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_**Coffee keeps me awake to write, but reviews keep me motivated to write!**_


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